There’s A Cone

There Is A Cone Who Lost Himself

He lost his friends. He is far away from home.
No one picks him up. No one answers the phone.
He is lying down there. “Life is unfair”, crying he is.

He is reaching out. His throat screams sounds.
No one found him. He found himself
stuck in middle of nowhere. “Hell or Heaven?”, question he shares.

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We Got Time

I wrote the following poem a long time ago, during my time of depression. Things have changed since then. Anyway, how does this piece come up to the surface after all the time? When I was cleaning my room, I found the verses on a crumpled note. I think this was a ‘kinda’ OK poem so I want to share with y’all.

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Ơi Quạ Ơi

Đã có một thời gian nọ, khá lâu rồi, tôi hay gặp những ác mộng lặp đi lặp lại. Chúng không quá đáng sợ, nhưng cũng không thể dễ dàng quên đi. Một con quạ theo dõi tôi khắp mọi nơi ư? Nó sẽ còn theo tôi đến khi nào nữa?

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Nghĩ đến xa

Nghĩ đến xa.
Khi hiện tại,
Bỗng xa lạ.

Lo đến suy.
Nhưng hiện tại,
Tay vụt mất.

Think further.
When present,
becomes distant.

Anguish til’ ill.
But present,
slips from hand.

© 2019 Lam Le. All Rights Reserved.

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