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Cheong Jinin


Singapore, Singapore

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The Crying Soul


Cheong Jinin

In the midst of the night, there comes a cry.
One of pain, misery and hurt.
That piercing tone, that shrilling pitch, freed from the hells of the soul.
Windows of the soul are blurred, trickling down its shame and dirt.
It screams for someone to be heard,
but faced with contempt from all the world.
Stretching out its open arms, hoping to feel someone's palms,
palms as soft as a baby's kiss.
For years the soul had yearned, for love it so deserved,
to give the soul a name, to bring the past away.
But the cry has no name, it has no soul, only bleeds till eternity.
The dawning of a bright new morn, swims within the depth of scorn,
killing and stabbing at the slightest hint of hope.
Drown the soul, to strangle the cry;
hide the wound to rekindle the care.
A mere make-believe, a play for all to see.
The sorrow will never go,
the joy doesn't ever grow.
Despair fills the soul,
Despair brings the cold.
So weep my soul as it is save,
and drive the pain all to their graves.



Cheong Jinin

Do rainbows exist as life's mockery?
The beauty is exudes, radiant yet unreachable.
Crushes are rainbows in disguised,
Angelic posteriors, capes of shenanigans
All tools to lure and deceive.
Victims yearn for proximity
Like children in search for a rainbow's end.
Attention wasted, time ill-spent
Money foolishly lost and energy exhausted.
Rainbows can never be procured
And crushes will always be unyielding chases.

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The Other Lover


Cheong Jinin

His silhouette, under the street lamps' beams,
Reflected in the puddle of rain,
At my forlorn heart's feet.
A stranger, a slender shadow,
Is waltzing away with him before my tears soaked eyes.
I plod across the water disturbing its tranquility,
But the picture obliterated, puts me in peace.
We were two bodies beating as one
Thoughts locked as if almost in telepathy.
Words were superfluous,
Our eyes communicated,
Breathing in rhythem,
As if both were united at birth.
Each touch a novelty,
And every secret glance or smile
Sliced a deeper wound into me breast.
Endless strings of questions torment my mind,
As he seeps out of my skin into a second emotional being.
Now every pool of nature's water my naked feet meet,
Only my eyes will see, in it a vision of him.
In his arms she is again,
And again I distort her spiteful face!
The rancour harboured now steadily grows,
The picture wanes, the wound becomes a scap.
With a layered armour heart, the lights are dimmer,
Alient shadows past the puddles,
Images of him I see much harder.
An idealistic prodigious love, romanticised by a child,
Has left a stigma engraved in the metal heart.

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