Dan Lukman
Dan Lukman Poems
He sits alone at the table, hungry.
But he already ate the salad, the potatos, the burned chicken.
He looks at his plate, playing with the green part of the tomato, still hungy inside.
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They don't have the same looks
They don't have the same hobbies
They don't eat the same food
They don't read the same books
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He wants to talk, but not to them.
He wants to play, but not with them.
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Holding a gun you stands before the truck's backdoor.
As the door opens you step out, step out into the area, THAT area!
Where you give a 100%!
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As I study hard I wonder- why am I even doing this?
I don't find the material intresting, nor I find the subject necessary.
Why do I spend hours and hours reading the same pages over and over?
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Why can't people be more kind?
Is it because the reality we live in? Because everyone wants to get a job and survive? Or or maybe that's because kindness fades away from this world?
People don't ask for favours, don't give away gifts, and even refuse to accept them! Just because they don't want to be a bother...
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My heart is pounding so hard, is it because of you?
I don't know much about you, but something inside me wants you.
I've known you for a very short time, but something inside me needs you.
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He's painted in the color orange, the color of both love and joy!
Everyone seems to love him, and they all want to be like him.
After all-
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The Best Poem Of Dan Lukman
Heart Growl
He sits alone at the table, hungry.
But he already ate the salad, the potatos, the burned chicken.
He looks at his plate, playing with the green part of the tomato, still hungy inside.
His brother asks him how his day's been, and he can only say 'okay'.
The big brother won't ask him what's wrong, he never will, because he can only see how wrong it is to be silent and sad during the family dinner.
The rest of the family members eat and puke, again and again, the same food they love- sarcasm, while he can't even touch that dish.
He gets up and goes upstairs, to his room, where he hears music, hoping to be finaly full.
But no song can feed him, they can only give him a feeling that he's not hungry, but this feeling will fade after his ears leave his headpones.
His father comes up to his room, and enters without knocking.
He asks him why he isn't at the table, and he can only say that he isn't hungry.
His dad throws up his anger on him, telling him that he must be at the dinner table, not asking if maybe he doesn't like one of the dishes on the table.
All he can do is lock himself in his room, while the hunger from inside makes him throw up all the tears he ate his whole life.
They don't understand that a different organ is hungry inside him, hungry for the love and respect he always wanted to eat.
His heart growls and growls, but he can't feed it, because the only dish it loves isn't on the table.
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4/25/2024 12:35:50 PM # 1.0.0.1119
