The Tick

Some arguments starts
Same old insinuations
Same old scorns
Sometimes I wonder
About these thorns
Are they here to teach
And preach
Or are they here
Just for show
Some thorns prick
And tick
Some thorns
Bleed you dry
I wonder why
Prone to meanness
Some do think
They are blameless
So
Tell me please
What makes a man
Tell me!
Tell whatever you can
I won't chide
I won't scold
Just tell me bold
What what what?
What?
Makes a man!
What, Man?

Give Us Back Our Beloved Land

Give us back our beloved Land...
The land of our never-ending smiles...
The land of our endless love...
And our warm sunshine...
The land that has been defined...
And described...
As peaceful and forgiving...
So accepting and devoted...
To souls of all nations.

Alas, woe has struck...
Time and again...
What remains...
Are our shattered hearts...
And our dissipated dreams...
Time and again...
We hopelessly try...
To maintain...
And contain...

Despair and anguish returns...
How hard we try to spurn...
In spite of all concerns...
Can't ever escape the upturn...
Of riotous ado and turbulent turmoil...

Is it too much to ask?
Is it such an impossible task?
Stop wearing those masks!!!
Stop pretending you're smart!!!
Stop with all the evoking!!!
Stop with all the provoking!!!

AND...

Give us back our beloved Land!!!

-Thanyarat Komolsingsakul