Helena Chang Poems

Life hunts me, again and again and again and again. Some people are born bearing the gift of analytical minds. I am one of them.

Thoughts are the source of the fears. If you are not strong enough to tame it, it will engulf you as a whole. The sharp teeth tear you up during the day, and through the night.
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The ants crawl on the dry land awaited a summer thunder storm. They crawl slowly, with those little black cheeks up when they observe the gravy sky. They hope they can role instead of crawl. But they still crawl, slowly, and ponderously.

The ants crawl on the dry land dotted with rain drops. The dirt sprinkles in the air, one wave after another, make them scream out loud, but without a sound.
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