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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