What good will love bring?


I think I love you

But I would not tell you.

You have places to go

And I have eyes to meet.

Our desire part ways

In the crossroads.

Our love unties

As future stare at us.

What good will love bring?

When I need you,

Yet not want you.

When I love you,

Yet need to part you.


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©10/04/19 The Rendezvous Club

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If love was coffee


If love was coffee

I’d add a bit more milk to mine

Being bitter is fine,

But not always

That’s not right.

If love was coffee

I’d stir the sugar nice

Until homogeneously mixed

Bitter on top, too sweet down bottom,

Now that’s horrible

Don’t you think.

If love was coffee

I’d have it twice

A cup in the morning

To be awake and

Another in the evening,

To stay awake

Not a drop more.

Can’t deal with insomnia!

If love was coffee

I don’t mind dying to soon

Because I had too many

too soon.

If love was coffee

I’d advise you,

Don’t start too young

Caffeine is not good for you.

If love was coffee

Arrgh! Who am I kidding,

Love isn’t coffee

It’s much worse than that.


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©31/03/19 The Rendezvous Club

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Floweraid


I have used a flower as a bandaid

To fill a hole in my heart

Expecting the stem and

The thorn to stitch the wound

Bitterly raw,

With all the pain

healing all the wound.

Can a flower grow roots

I do not know

But I wish they did

Because then they can grow

And be in my heart

Filling that hole

As long as I shall live.

Because I see that this wound won’t heal

And I wish that the flower would hide

The deformity of my heart from others and myself.

I have used a flower as a bandaid

To hide a hole in my heart.


©16/03/19 The Rendezvous Club

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Do you see love?


We yearn for love

From centuries ago

The pure kind of one

We read on books,

From hundred years back.

But hundred years from now

People then will look back,

At us and our love

Just the way we have it now

And maybe they’ll think the same.

So now look into my eyes and say,

Do you see love?


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©15/03/19 The Rendezvous Club

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Sadness for breakfast


I had a plate of sadness for breakfast,

I had it with a glass of tears

Early, at six in the morning.

I chewed it throughly

Just like how I was taught in childhood

And swallowed it slowly.

I could hear my stomach protest to this,

The hate and rejection I had for dinner

Late at night was still undigested

In my stomach,

And my early breakfast

Wasn’t taken well.

My stomach growled and protested

And I could sense a sort of

Reverse peristalsis happening inside me.

Suddenly everything I had gulped down

Rushed back to my throat.

And it tasted something like overcooked depression,

Stubborn and rebellious to go down.

I could feel my oesophagus convulsing

Struggling to keep my words in it’s place.

They weren’t coming out nor going in,

So I just had another glass of tears,

Then they all went down

Leaving behind a metallic taste in my mouth

And a stench in my breath,

And then I went to bed

Like nothing happened

Like I was alright.


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©12/03/19 The Rendezvous Club

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