the book of life


maybe I was just a word in the book of your life

or a sentence

or a paragraph

it was just a cue of my presence

but then forgotten

now you come and ask me to finish the last few chapters of the book together

but unfortunately I am not able to write one story in two different books

since  I have to finish my own story


– mei –


the poet

though you were dead

the words keep flying in mind

like feathers blowing in the wind

freely dancing  in the air

though you were dead

the stanzas still beautifully lilting

like the rhythm of water flowing

fill the cavity of empty soul

even though you were dead

you are still alive and

always be warm

in your poetry


– mei –