It is a tingle
Not the kind you’d like to have
Or you yearn to feel.
You sense the heat rise
Heart desperately beating
Your mind started to reel.
Without a warning
Fingers start to wildly thump
Praying to stop the wheel.
Holding it together
You look at your reflection
It’s all just surreal.
When it mellows down
To a point of regret
You’d hope it’s unreal.
I was wondering
What Haiku meant to poets
So I surfed the net.
Surprised me a bit
Those Japanese poems they made
Could be translated.
So here it is then
My take on five-seven-five
Thought I won’t survive?
The green-eyed monster
Is eyeing you at a corner.
Waiting so patiently
To grab your sanity.
Life may offer chances
But not to all passers.
Either you’re born with it
Or work hard to get it.
Fame, wealth, or skill
Have one common fill.
They all love to latch
The sturdiest of catch.
about the rain 