I did not sign on the dotted line
To stare out of the square window.
I stay at home all week long,
It is a long time to wait for experiences.
I don’t go to work like an ordinary man
I tried to turn my bedroom into an office.
It does not really work in my mother’s tidy and strict house
As I water my small garden plants every day.
I have so many things to say in these poems
I write all the time and make shift the dizzy heights
Of visions and lucid dreaming in the open air outside my house
Where the shed visits me with bigger dreams about success and wealth from my pen.
This is the writer’s den
The haven away from the world I enjoy
There I am at peace from the gearing of finance and economies
So I can play out smaller things to work hard at and enjoy.
Wild Stage 