When You Dislike It Poem by Altair Laahad

When you dislike it,
I wouldn't loathe your senses,
I would look into me again
and follow that ball of snow rolling down my marrow
I'll stir again the secrets of my mirth or sorrow
I'll unlock the bolt of my shy idiosyncracy,
and give it to the sun
I'll hope it melts with some rays of universality

In the meanwhile, I'll repaint the beggar by my roadside
in daisies, lilies, poppies
of stitches around his prayers lost to the air
or in the cruelest hue of wretchedness,
from shoe to hat,
I'll make him climb the steepest rainbow
and as he reaches the peak, you'll feel his free fall
with his blood and tears spattering near your feet
to touch your evasive pity

Then, It will break into your head's framework of alleys, roads and lanes
where the intersection of our minds is waiting
I expect your heart beat will speed up, with some flashes of your life journey catching the winking emissions in the chain of words on hand as you blink and blink,
and pinch your skin,

Hopefully, the input of my breath will take hold of your soul,
It will melt with your spirit,
There, it will possess a room in your castle,
It will wait for oblivion
it will lurk back again when you are ready to surrender,
it will emerge from your bosom,
like a rocket,
and you will start the process again,
your own way.