I am not a poet, A beast inside me is. It wakes and makes me write, And leads me to debate with characters --- Lines carry laughter and cries;
Stories begin with words.
A demon controls my fate And gives birth to a new me again� Gradually, the demon sharpens my nails To strike my vein so that My blood causes the flood Flowing for long hours, Leaving signs on the scars Look like brown papers. All these are expected to be read�read by the eyes.
The poet is an alumnus of the Department of English, East West University
