Sundays
I have forgotten him many times,
when im on the bus, or in the trains,
when im winning and everything is my gain,
when im eating and drinking that wine
while smoking and talking about being fine.
i have forgotten him, while i was busy,
doing the things that make me crazy,
girls and all alikes, i even not mentioned him in my poetry.
i am bored when people talk of him,
i hide to the lines when people try to know him.
slowly i am losing him.
mondays to saturdays are for the world,
and on sundays i try to fill him in,
at most times, i still drop it for some more rest,
i have traded him for hours of sleep,
more lousy than the the 30 pieces of silver.
and on times of trials,
i always try to make him in,
as part of my team.
and when things go wrong still i blame him.
wait til my mind clear, and lean on my so called brain.
and then i forget him.
but when he suffered back then,
when he was insulted, mocked, did he complain?
when he died in the hands of the cruel soldiers,
did he forget us?
the third day where he rose from the grave,
was the day of liberation.
and forever should be cherished.
a miracle of resurrection… i am blind.
i keep on forgetting.
forgive me.
darkmau
malaya!
