So much smoke got my mind cloudy, 
stripping me of solitary bliss
just like tense situations keep my persona rowdy,
no random pick,
no love nor quickie,
an interlude of cacophony
many a voices, no melody.

I stand aloof, 
like a lonely wolf
dealing with the fake smiles
that adorn my clouded mind.
And, like bastards, thoughts run to and fro
the empty street of my mind
searching for crumbs left on the footprints
of fathers they never knew. 
Sunshine smiling down in happy fury,
burning out their boy skin
into wrinkles that will testify
of lonely nights,
on they ran, thoughts on my mind,
until it dawned on me,
sunset rose from the dark.

So, this me learnt to live on words
borne out of solitary nights,
when behind candle lights,
I sit soliloquizing that life goes on with or with out me.

I sit soliloquizing about how
lost the 'T' to become rust.

I sit soliloquizing how I've been flaked on 
and stabbed in the back too much
by trembling hands I made strong.

I sit soliloquizing 
why you'll got blades ready 
to slit throats that refuse to chant 
'Allah's great!'
'Allah's great!'

I sit soliloquizing why
mother, sister, lover, 
everybody get laid
for a few bucks,
and another boy,
like me, again, made.

I sit soliloquizing
why doth young lads flee north,
through uncharted desert lands
for lawns, illusionary, greener,
rather than dust weary butts,
shake off the dust,
and peel off the 'buts'
that limit dreams borne out of naught.
Alas! Even dreams shy away from focus.

I sit soliloquizing,
When shall I step out of the imaginary 
and step into some real fantasy?

I sit soliloquizing,
when shall these faces sad and long
burst out in songs
that bring not sad tears
but drop off ducts that quake in happiness?

I sit soliloquizing:
What's right?
Who's wrong?
What's to write
to right this wrong?
I don't know.

I'm just a boy in soliloquy.