They come with smiles rehearsed, their offers set,
A table dressed in false civility,
Who reads the room and corners you — and yet
They call it choice, this forced humility.
The terms arrive like verdicts, cold and sealed,
No room to breathe, no margin left to turn,
The hand extended only to be steeled —
Comply or watch the bridges start to burn.
How clean their conscience sleeps, how well they feed
On spoils dressed up as generosity,
Who profits most from someone else’s need
And calls the whole transaction victory.
But justice has a long and patient gait —
God help them when it finally finds their gate.
#919 On Vanity’s Reign
Rage burns, unrestrained —
years of work upon my soul,
yet pride unmade me.
I knew the better
path, and chose the lesser one:
ego, not wisdom.
Still waters beneath —
what shame, that I let the flood
speak before my soul.
#918 Tentang Paras Insan Yang Hampir Tiada Terkenal
Pulangkan aku ke hari-hari dulu
Zaman muda yang makin kabur dalam ingatan
Ketika mata dan jiwaku masih lagi hijau dan gebu
Masih berbinar dengan cahaya pengharapan
Derai kenangan ini masih terlalu berbisa
Masih terlalu sarat dengan kesah dan tangisan
Betapa raut jiwa ini masih bergelut dengan duka
Luka dari seribu lacutan hangat kekecewaan
Nah, inilah khazanah yang aku wariskan
Buat usia tua yang kini tiba menyapa
Dan aku hampir gagal mengenal paras insan
Yang kini terpapar di cermin — kau siapa?
Benarlah, kita takkan mampu lari
Dari kenangan lalu yang penuh berduri.
#917 On The Line
Vessel cracks at last —
what floods out is not weakness
but the self, reclaimed.
I will bear no more
than dignity permits me.
The line has been drawn.
Beyond their reach now,
I walk the quiet distance
that was always mine.
#916 On Longing for Her
Each dawn without her
stretches like an unread page —
the words wait for her.
Distance holds the key
to what these weeks have borrowed —
I go to reclaim.
Soon the city lights
will matter less than her eyes —
distance folds to touch.
#915 On The Entrepreneurs
How bold the ones who conjure things from air,
Who stake their sleep and savings on a dream,
Who hire the hands to realise what they dare
And lift from nothing some audacious scheme.
I watched them move and marvelled at the sight,
Astonished at their chutzpah and their nerve —
To risk what comfort asks us to repay,
To bend the possible beyond its curve.
I know my blood runs cooler, and my heart
Inclines to patience, to the page, and thought;
I lack the gambler’s gift, the founder’s art,
The fire that will not rest till something’s wrought.
Yet I shall cheer the builders from my post,
And feed with quiet hands what I love most.
#914 Tentang Pimaipimaitangtu
Pimaipimaitangtujugak
Walau janji ditaburkan
Walau hasrat menggelegak
Walau kuasa mengizinkan:
Kuasa juga memabukkan
Merak nafsu menggiurkan!
Janji-janji terberantak
Hasrat rakyat lumat koyak
Kami yang dikecewakan
Kami yang ditindas henyak
Sekali lagi diajarkan:
Pimaipimaitangtujugak.
#913 Tentang Insan Teralpa
Bangga amat pada lencana
Harta jadi ukuran darjat
Tayang bini tayang segala
Tinggi langit tiada teringat
Bila takbur marak memerak
Salak desak makin menggila
Tewas pada nafsu kehendak —
Itu tanda insan teralpa.
#912 On The Road Chosen
The road I chose — where
did it quietly become
someone else’s life?
#911 On What Went Wrong
I watched another take a seat I craved,
And asked what flaw had dimmed my early light —
What forfeit left my gold so long engraved
With someone else’s name, some other’s right.
Was merit not enough, or did I stray
At some unmarked and unreturning turn?
The years grow short; what youth had meant to say
Now smoulders where ambition used to burn.
And yet to rage against the shape of things
Is but to break oneself upon the wheel —
Perhaps each life is measured not by rings
Of office, but by what the quiet feel.
What went wrong? Perhaps nothing. Perhaps all
Was always tending toward a different call.