Because.
I was feeling down so I turned to you
Thinking maybe you've got a clue
You held me close and wiped my tears
And said you'd take away my fears
You're always there, it seemed to me
And because of that, I was happy
You always kissed my tears away
Yes, you made everything okay
But one day, I guess you've had enough
Your words stung, your hand felt rough
You said the world doesn't revolve around me
And that others were hurting, not just me
And so I learned my lesson that day
That you really never should give your trust away
Because I was feeling down and I turned to you
But about my life, you never really got a clue
I found this poem in my journal. I wrote this almost a year ago. The date says August 8, 2012. Maybe I never really did learn my lesson that day. Or maybe history just has its way of repeating itself. But this time, I really will learn from my lesson.
Labels: college life, diary, literature, personal, poems, thoughts, writings
For Alice
Titles:
- She Paints Me Blue
- Live Like There's No Tomorrow
- The Best Day
- Alice
- For Tonight
"I've known her since preschool. We sat next to each other during classes. In a matter of days, we became best friends. From that moment on, we became inseparable.
"I fell in love with her during high school. I don't know why. It sort of just happened. I never told her, though. She Paints Me Blue with every story she had with her ex. Though she was the very reason why I had my heart broken a lot of times, she's still the best. She taught me to make the most out of life - to Live Like There's No Tomorrow.
"The Best Day I had with her wasn't really a day. It was a night. Prom night, to be exact. It was the same day as her birthday. She was my date. I gave her a set of earrings. On top of the gift was a note which said "For Tonight." We danced endlessly that night. I never told her I loved her, though.
"I've never regretted anything I've done with her. We've done a lot of crazy stuff together. We were always there for each other. I didn't regret what I did. I regret what I didn't do. I never told her I loved her. Now it's too late. It pains me to be speaking in front of you all.
"Alice, wherever you are, I hope you can hear me. I love you, Alice. I really do. Please forgive me for not telling you."
As Kris sat next to Alice's mom, she took his hand and said, "She does, Kris. She loves you, too." Kris' tears fell silently, and for the first time in his life, he started wishing that there was no more tomorrow.
Labels: literature, short story, shuffled songs, writings
The Story of The Old Snake
I was pretty bored last night, so what I did was this:
I put the iPod on shuffle and I listed 5 songs. All random. The titles were:
- Old Snake
- Fruit Fairy
- Inside of You
- Living In The Sky With Diamonds
- Love The Way You Lie
Now that I have these titles, I challenged myself to use them in a story. At first I was baffled because the last title was a bit out of place. But I managed to include it, haha. Here's the story:
Once upon a time, there was an Old Snake that lived in a jungle. The Old Snake only had one friend - the Fruit Fairy. One day, the Fruit Fairy was killed by a demon. Not being strong enough, the snake was unable to help. The Fruit Fairy had a few words for the snake before it died. It said, "Don't be sad. You're not alone. I'll always be there - Inside of You." The Old Snake cried for days. Then, he met a turtle. "You've been suffering, my friend," the turtle said. "I have been sent here to grant you a wish. What would you like?" he asked. The snake thought for awhile then said, "I wish to be in heaven. I want to be Living In The Sky With Diamonds." "Very well," said the turtle. With that, the turtle vanished. Suddenly, the surroundings changed. He was now in an enchanted kingdom. It was no heaven. There were no stars. But right in front of the Old Snake was the Fruit Fairy. The snake couldn't help but chuckle, "Oh, turtle. I Love The Way You Lie."
I know, it's silly. Haha. This is the product of people like me who have nothing to do. HAHA. I'm gonna post more of them in a moment.
Labels: diary, literature, short story, shuffled songs, writings
Nothing But Pain
I've never quite understood
Why I never get to say
What I wish I could
Each and everyday
I guess I'll never know why
I can't tell you when I want you to hold me
Or what to do when emotions are high
Or to say what I want you to remind me
Tell me again why these words come in verses
In stanzas and lyrics
Never in sentences
But always in lyrics
Is it because I fear how you'd react?
Maybe it's my pride, or fear of rejection
Why is it that when I speak, you act like that?
Or is it just another premonition?
I've learned to keep quiet perhaps because
I'm afraid that you might end it
When I don't even know the cause
I'm tired of begging "please don't end it"
No tears fall, so you don't notice
But my heart is crying inside
Fear of what might become of this
The emptiness I feel I try to hide
I'm scared of the future, I'm scared of you
I don't know how to tell you about this
I'm tired and broken, but I love you
Please don't end this
Your affection and time
I always look for
Trying to make them mine
But I guess I'm not worth more
You said you'd make it up to me
And I believed you, yes
You said you'd do that for me
I don't want to guess
But you didn't know how to
How do I explain?
When words come down to
Nothing but pain
Labels: literature, personal, poems, writings
Wonder
I wonder if you ever think that you're the luckiest
Or that maybe you have the best
If you ever look at me and think "she's the one"
Without any second thought done
I wonder if your heart beats rapidly
With each step you take closer to me
If you catch your breath when I smile
If for me you'd go that extra mile
Or do you think of me as just another person
Not the person who would have you hold on
Am I just another friend?
Not the one you would want to love till the end?
Maybe you are just another of my fantasies
Growing wilder with your stories
I wonder if you know that I am the luckiest
Or if you know that with you, I have the best
Labels: literature, personal, poems, writings
My Superhero
Last night I had a dream
I saw the man I was to love forever
He was tall, his skin was cream
And he was very, very clever
He let me ride on his back while we traveled
His knees surrounded by clouds as we ran
The people who could see us from below marveled
Thinking “we can’t do that, but that man can”
I laughed because I knew that he was more than a man
He wasn’t human, but he wasn’t a bird or a plane either
He told me that he once carried a loaded van
I thought he was perhaps insane
He then took me to what he called his hometown
It was a quiet place called Smallville
He then decided to put me down
As a raging fire, he tried to kill
I asked him, what’s it like to be you?
He smiled at me, but he looked away
What is he feeling? I want a clue
He said it was hard yet fulfilling, that’s all he would say
I said you’re everybody’s superhero, mine, too
He said he didn’t choose this, he never wanted this
That’s when I heard the alarm, the cuckoo
With that, he leaned in with a lingering kiss
I knew he loved his job, I knew why he hates it
When the sun goes down, when the stars shine
In my dreams, the only time we can meet
We both know that he can never be mine
I walked the earth, he flew the skies
I saw a human being, he was superhuman
I knew that each time I dream, my heart lies
For who could ever love Superman?
I guess only a few people can guess why I wrote this. Well, I really am in love with "Superman." But not in the way I retell it in this poem.
Labels: literature, personal, poems, writings
Moving On
Moving on takes great courage
Especially for someone my age
When all I wanted is to be set free
When love has got the best of me
I had to leave, of that I was sure
Because what was to come, I could not endure
Day by day, things got worse
The magic gift, turned into a curse
I tried to explain why I had to leave
But all my reasons, he would not believe
I cried and begged him to understand
But he dismissed me with a wave of his hand
I was crushed; my heart was torn and broken
My eyes hurt, red and swollen
Things were not getting any better
The better days, I tried to remember
Things were getting way out of hand
I fell each time I tried to stand
It hurt more because you were never there
Even when I searched for you everywhere
Somehow, you were nowhere to be found
And on your front door, I tried to pound
I wanted to leave you, yes, it’s true
But my love for you was too great to undo
I found someone else after sometime
I then realized that if we were words, we would rhyme
Because our harmony was off the beat
And when we danced, we twisted our feet
You then begged me to stay, but I had to go
For I was already starting to love him so
For in your eyes, I could only see harm
And your lips, they were never again warm
It will be better, that you promised me
Like a prophecy, that’s what happened to be
At first you wouldn’t let me, but I did
Beneath his love, that’s where I hid
Eventually I left you with tears in each eye
For I knew I’d eventually have to say goodbue
I’m happy now, the pain is gone
But I guess I never really did move on
Did I? :(
Labels: literature, personal, poems, writings
It's Not Over Yet
I tried to call but you wouldn’t answer the phone
I just sad in bed, tired and alone
Tears streamed down my cheek as I turned off the light
As I remembered what you said last night
You said it’s time for us to let go
How could that be when I still needed you so?
It’s not over, that’s what I’m trying to say
But without looking back, you walked away
Another chance, that’s what I ask for
You said it’s stupid because I’ve said this before
I’ll change, I promised you I will
But our relationship, you’d rather kill
I told you it’s not over yet
But I guess your mind was already set
I told you to just let it out
But you wouldn’t even shout
I won’t give up on you, you’re everything
Let life bring what it’ll bring
But I’m telling you this isn’t over
No, not yet, it’s not yet over
Inspired by It's Not Over by Daughtry. Inspired by what happened two nights ago.
Labels: literature, personal, poems, writings
For Daddy
I know it’s too late
That by now, it’s all up to fate
But I should’ve said this before I left
All this words that I’ve kept
I’m not perfect, and I won’t ever be
I’m sorry if I never was what you expected of me
I just want to make you proud
So please don’t shout too loud
I know we’ve been through a lot
All those times we’ve left to rot
Maybe we were wrong
Maybe we’ve fought for too long
You’ll always be my hero, though
It’s just something I want you to know
Sorry for being too emotional
When we were both to irrational
It hurts when you disapprove all along
But this has been going on way too long
I guess I should finally speak out
I hope this won’t make you shout
Will I ever be good enough for you?
Have I done all the things you wanted me to do?
Right now, I guess we’re both back on track
But to those times, we can never go back
I guess nothing’s going to make this right
I just wanted to say this without another fight
I hope someday we’ll work this out
And that someday, you won’t ever have to shout
Inspired by Simple Plan's song, Perfect. Inspired by my own experiences.
Labels: literature, personal, poems, writings
Ranze
He has the makings of a teddy bear. He has chocolate brown skin and a body build perfect for a tight hug. This description may be silly for many of you. But as the saying goes, “do not judge a book by its cover.”
He is the person a lot of people turn to. He’s the one whom you can rely on, the one you can trust with your feelings and he’ll never turn you down. Oh yes, he may be a bit stubborn and moody at times, but this guy has a heart as big as his belly.
He’s strong – that’s one thing many have probably noticed by now. He has gone through a lot of challenges and ups and downs. He has passed many obstacles and amazingly survived. Truly, he is a strong person. The best thing about his strength? He uses it to help other people, to be the friend everyone wants to have.
Like everyone else, he, too, has limitations. He is the type to promise things that he’s not sure he can do. Why does he do this? Probably because he wants to assure everyone that he’ll always be there, no matter what. And yes, he may break his promises, but he’s always there. He may be a bit wordy, but that’s just who he is. At times, you have to accept a person, including all his negative traits. Besides, he has more positive traits than negative ones. That is one of the many things you’ll love about him.
He has a great personality. He’s the artist type, the athletic type, and even the religious type. He has a wide span of interests, which makes him excel in different areas. Also, he has a great fear in God. This trait of him is what makes him rise among the many – the many that excel just like him, but do not have a stable relationship with God. This is probably what makes him so valiant.
Now, to sum it all up, he is a great person. There’s so much more to say but he probably doesn’t have enough breath and saliva to present all of these words in class.
How can I say all these? First of all, I was given permission to. Actually, I was bothered during a chat session by a message asking if I could write him an essay. Without a second thought, I agreed. Why? Being his best friend, it’s not even an option to turn him down. I have known him for almost four years. Not only have I known him, I have loved him, too. In fact, I still do. But perhaps not in the way you’re all thinking of. I guess I have just about all the rights to say these things about him. Oh, and just in case you’re still clueless, I doubt that, though, his name is Ranze.
For my best friend, Ranze. Good luck with the presentation. :)
Labels: essays, literature, personal, writings
Living Memory
I see a girl in the mirror
A girl filled with horror
She was pale as the moonlight
She was pretty, but it was a terrible sight
Her eyes were wet and swollen
As she wiped the tears that have fallen
Her long black hair was a mess
And her hands clung to her blood-stained dress
Who is she? Of course it’s me
There she was, longing to be set free
But invisible chains bound her
As she sang lullabies over and over
There were bites all over her skin
As I let the truth sink in
That what is was seeing was not what I looked outside
The realization frightened me terribly
For outside I was happy and bubbly
The people around have loved me for it
But then why is the mirror showing the opposite?
I thought back and thought maybe
The past had this effect on me
Though the bleedings have gone away
The hideous scars are here to stay
Then suddenly, her hand reached out
She started screaming “Let me out!”
I could see desperation in her eyes
I covered my ears to drown out her cries
But the harder I pressed, the louder the sound
I could feel my heart desperately pound
A wanted to run, run away
But something was compelling me to stay
I closed my eyes, but I could still see her
I screamed as she got nearer and nearer
I tried to run, but how do you run from yourself?
By doing that, I’d abandon myself
Flashbacks rushed in and out of my head
As she fiercely bit me; on my skin she fed
For years I’ve been running, now it has caught up with me
For the past has always been a living memory
Labels: literature, poems, writings
Auer
I thought you were my friend
Best friends until the end
We were the closest of friends
But the road had a lot of bends
Somehow something changed in you
Or was it me instead of you?
Slowly, you turned into a monster
Slowly, slowly, then faster
Suddenly, you became a liar
Someone I knew only from afar
A traitor, a selfless being
A new individual, slowly fading
But I’m not the only one
Many have noticed what you’ve done
Through the years, you’ve changed so much
By and by, such and such
Your friends, you say, let go of your hand
I guess by now I understand
One by one, you let us fade away
You let us go without asking us to stay
We pass each other, but we ignore
Our friendship? Ah, I guess no more
For you cannot be trusted, promises you break
You never realize what’s at stake
Hurt and relieved, that’s how I feel
As all our connections, we both kill
Looking back, well, it’s not at all sad
Why, you’re just a best friend I once had
Labels: literature, personal, poems, writings
What Made Me Fall In Love With You
The way you scowl when you’re mad
The tears you shed when you’re sad
The way you smell after playing
The way you can’t explain what you’re saying
The way you turn your back at me when we fight
The way you stress when things aren’t right
The way you slump your back against the seat
The way you gobble, chomp, and eat
The way you steal glances form afar
The way you say it’s just the way you are
The way you look up to conceal that double chin
The way I can easily tell what mood you’re in
The way you tell me you’re imperfect
The way you look oh, so perfect
The way you smile and hold me close
The way you gave me that fragrant white rose
You may think that you’re worthless
That all your efforts are useless
I may stay mad at you for oh so long
But, hey, you’re definitely wrong
Those things, yes, that’s who you are
Every mole and every scar
No one else is like you
If I were to choose, I’d still pick you
Because behind those flaws and imperfections
Is someone I’ve come to love with no conditions
The person who’s been there all along
The reason why I’ve stayed so strong
Every tear I shed, you wiped away
Because of that, I’m here to stay
Don’t ever think that I hate you
Did you know that I’d love to marry you?
I may say hurtful words, but they’re never true
Truth is, I’m always here for you
Never think that there’s something you lack
You know I’ve always got your back
All those things, well, that’s you
That’s what made me fall in love with you
Wipe your tears and forget about the rest
Because for me, you’ll always be the best
Labels: literature, personal, poems, writings
Just Another Rainy Day
Lightning struck and the roaring of thunder boomed from one end of a corridor to another and sent the glass windows vibrating.
Rain! It hasn’t been long since it last poured and here it was again. Streaks of lightning shot across the sky and the dark gray clouds hovered over the school.
It was late in June, which means rain wasn’t uncommon but it never failed to make one girl’s day. That girl was Claire.
Claire has loved the rain for as long as she can remember. Each time she played in the rain, she felt as if she were the happiest person on earth. She didn’t care if she woke up the next morning with a high fever. She simply loved the rain – enough said.
She rushed towards the nearest window and stared outside. Every detail of it delighted her; the raindrops, the puddles on the concrete, the sound of rain against the roof – everything!
All was perfect when Claire heard her classmates’ worrisome whispers. “I don’t have an umbrella.” “How will I get home?” Oh, how she hated their complaints! Why couldn’t they appreciate the magic of the pouring rain even just for a second? Besides, if classes get suspended, they’d tear their hearts out in joy, wouldn’t they? She clicked her tongue and stared at the window once more.
The rain was getting lighter and Claire could see a trace of sunlight peeking through the clouds. She immediately ran out of the classroom and headed for the school garden. She was very determined to play in the rain for just a few minutes before it stops. It would definitely be lovely to feel the rain while enjoying the flowers that surrounded her.
Her heart sang as it beat faster with every step she took.
But the moment she set her foot on the wet grass the rain had already stopped. Her heart sank as she slowly made her way back to the classroom.
The sun shone brightly. Hopes of suspensions and playing in the rain have been set aside.
The rain may have stopped but her thoughts went with it. As a rainbow slowly appeared in the blue sky, her teacher once again interrupted her thoughts with her famous line: “Get one whole sheet of paper. Write your name and section. Number one...”
This was supposed to be my legwork for journalism. I was asked to write about the heavy rain that was pouring that day. Being the literary editor, I was asked to write a literary whatever about it. This eventually made its way to the literary section of The Nucleus.
Labels: literature, school, short story, writings
Daddy's Girl
Aly’s phone rings as she and her friends dance the night away.
“Aren’t you going to answer it?” Katya asks.
“Answer what?” Aly asks in confusion.
“You’re phone, Aly. It’s ringing.”
Aly takes a quick glance at her phone. Seeing it’s her mom calling, she immediately presses the reject button.
“Why’d you do that?” asks Mary.
“Oh, I’m sure she’s just checking on me. It’s no big deal.”
---
Krrriiing! The alarm started to go off, awakening Aly from her deep sleep. She pulled the covers over her head and pressed her pillow against her ears, trying to convince herself that she was still dreaming. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face another day. But as much as she tried to drown out the noise, the alarm didn’t stop. She knew it was time to get up.
Aly usually finishes getting ready for school in just half an hour but today she just didn’t feel like moving. Her eyes were still swollen and her limbs were too heavy. Her family had always expected her father’s death but no one knew it would come quickly. Her father’s death shocked everyone but Aly was affected the most. She was her daddy’s girl and she didn’t even get to say goodbye.
“Aly, honey, you have to eat. Are you sure you want to go to school?” Her mother asked, disrupting her thoughts. Aly simply nodded. She knew that her teachers would understand her absence but she didn’t want to stay home, fearing that spending an entire day at home would only remind her of her father’s memories.
School was worse than Aly expected. The moment she entered her classroom, everyone grew quiet. Soon, they started whispering to one another. Some gave her sympathetic smiles, while some offered their condolences. Aly didn’t like this one bit. She wished they would just go on with whatever they were doing before she arrived. The way they treated her only made her feel worse. It only brought back the bitterness inside.
___
“Mom?” Aly called out. “I’m home.”
The light in the living roomed turned on. Aly turned around and saw her mom sitting on the couch, her eyes glued to the floor. Aly was used to her mom acting like this when she comes home late. What made her worry is the empty box of tissue sitting on her mom’s lap and the pieces of crumpled tissue scattered on the couch and on the floor.
“Mom, what’s going on?” she asks, taking a few steps toward the couch.
“I called you, didn’t I?” her mom asks, still staring blankly at the floor.
“Well, uh, yes. Mom, please tell me what’s going on. Where’s Daddy?”
Daddy, she thinks. Oh no, please don’t let it be Daddy.
___
Aly pushes the thought away. She can’t think of these things now, not in the middle of Chemistry. Focus, as her dad always tells her – used to tell her. I probably shouldn’t have come to school, Aly thought. I can’t concentrate when I can’t think of anything else except this. In desperation, Aly closed her eyes and tried her best to let go of the feeling, which she knew was next to, if not impossible.
“Aly, are you okay?” asked Mrs. Cruz, her chemistry teacher.
Aly immediately opened her eyes and saw concerned faces staring at her. It made her nauseous. She wasn’t used to such attention. But as she opened her mouth to speak, tears welled up in her eyes and before she knew it she was crying.
“Aly,” Mrs. Cruz said as she put her arm around Aly’s back.
“Ma’am, I – I’m sorry.” Aly managed to say in between sobs.
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Aly.” Her lips curved to form a sympathetic smile. “Come with me.”
___
“No, please tell me you’re kidding.” Aly cried, trying to convince herself that what she heard was just a joke, though something inside her knew that it wasn’t. She was having trouble breathing.
“When your father was rushed to the hospital, I tried to call you but for some reason I couldn’t reach you.” Her mother said softly, careful enough to avoid worsening the situation.
Then reality hit her. At the same time her dad was dying and being rushed to the hospital, she was with her friends partying. She knew about the call but didn’t answer it. If only she did.
Aly cried harder. There she was trying to have fun and now her father is dead. Dead! And there was nothing she could do about it.
I tried to call you; the words rang in her ears.
Oh, Daddy, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me, she thought as she collapsed onto the floor.
___
“Aly, you’re not alone.” Mrs. Cruz said.
“What?” Aly asked, still lost in thought.
“I know what you’re going through.”
A slight feel of defensiveness rushed through Aly. “How could you?” she asked. She was aware of her nasty tone, but couldn’t help it. How could anyone understand what I’m going through?
“I lost my father when I was only six.” Mrs. Cruz starts. Something in Aly starts to soften. She’s glad to hear that she’s not the only one who lost a father, but instantly felt guilty afterwards.
“He died in a car accident. He was immediately rushed to the hospital but was declared dead on arrival. You see, my father used to pick me up from school everyday. That day though, I waited for hours. When I finally saw our car, I was overjoyed. I remember being really excited to see him again. I thought, ‘Daddy’s finally here!’ but it wasn’t him. It was our driver. I kept asking him about daddy all the way home but he didn’t answer. When I finally learned about his death, I was devastated. I cried for months. I felt hopeless, like I had no reason to go on. I was only six, Aly. I got a chance to be with my father for only six years. It may be short but heaven knows I’ll forever keep those memories in my heart. But you, Aly, are luckier than I am. Yes, I may have lost my father at a very young age but I still consider myself lucky because God gave me a wonderful father. You, though, have shared 15 years with your father. If you ask me, I’d give the world to have another day, another hour, or even another second with him.”
Aly was now staring with wide eyes at her teacher. She still found it hard to believe that someone actually went through the same thing. It was as if she felt a spark of home in her. But, still, there was one thing. Aly looked at Mrs. Cruz hesitatingly.
As if reading her mind, Mrs. Cruz spoke. “Aly, I also didn’t get to say goodbye. For years, I was full of regret. I kept thinking that it was my fault. That if I could’ve said goodbye, then letting go would definitely be easier. But that’s not the case. I’ve come to believe that it doesn’t matter how you lost someone because either way, it would still hurt. I lost my father, Aly, and it was the worst thing that ever happened to me. But do you know what encouraged me to move on?”
Aly shook her head.
“When I was young, my father loved to teach me how to ride the bicycle. There were times when I’d fall and get hurt. At times, I even cried. But each time, he would take me into his arms and tell me in the most gentle way possible ‘When you fall, just get up. If you fall again, don’t give up. Just stand up again. Life is too short to be worrying about things that can no longer be worked out.’ Back then I thought it was just about me falling every time I try to ride the bike. But as I grew older, I’ve learned that those words had a lot more meaning.”
“I’m glad you moved on.” Aly said, feeling a lot better.
“Of course I moved on, but it took a lot of patience. And you will, too.”
That night, Aly prayed to God. She thanked Him for giving her fifteen years with her father. It may have been short, but for her, it was more than enough. As she turned off the lights and closed her eyes, a smile forms on her face. Somehow, she knew that things will get better, sooner or later.
This is just a short story I wrote for journalism a few months back.
Labels: literature, short story, writings
The Moon
The moon, light and pale
Listens to that little wail
Up above, suspended in the air
He’s there, watching you from up there
He sees the stars that stream down your cheek
He knows the answers you try to seek
He sees everything, you cannot hide
He’s always there, just by your side
The city’s a perfect view from where he is
He sees every laughter, every kiss
He sees death, he knows it’s soon
He knows. After all, he’s the moon
Labels: literature, poems, writings
Those Nights
Those nights when you can’t fall asleep
Those nights when you count endless sheep
When you think no one can hear
When all that’s there is fear
When your heart cries but no tears fall
When under the pillows you gently crawl
Those nights when you want to cry your heart out
Those nights when all you want to do is shout
Those nights when you stab the air
Those nights when you pull out your hair
When all that hears you is nothingness
When your life is nothing but a mess
When death watches you from across the street
When blankets no longer cover your cold feet
Those nights that make you wish you were dead
Those nights; there’s more ahead
Labels: literature, poems, writings
A Call That Will Never Come
Waiting for a call that will never come
Enough to make my day very lonesome
Staring at the phone, knowing it’ll never ring
Innocently hoping for happiness it might bring
Twenty to two in the morning, I’m still awake
Not knowing how long this will take
Deep inside, I know you won’t call
That I was just being a fool after all
My heart aches and my eyes are tired
My patience, will it be admired?
Just one ring, please make it happen
And bring back what I’ve forgotten
You’ll say sorry and I’ll have to forgive
I don’t have a choice, that’s how I live
I’ll just forget how much it hurt me
Just pretend that I simply wasn’t sleepy
Yes, I exaggerate too much.
Labels: literature, personal, poems, thoughts, writings
Starry
It won’t be long before we kiss the moonlight
Not long before we take a flight
Not long before the journey to forever
Not long before we face life together
You took my hand and promised me
Tonight, we will be set free
I’ll wear a white dress and we’ll marry
Underneath the sky, very very starry
Sealed with a kiss, that’s how it will be
Out of town, that’s where we’ll flee
Run away and never look back
Our feet won’t even leave a track
Darling, finally it will be
I am yours, you’re for me
Yes, yes, that’s how we’ll marry
Underneath the sky, very very starry
Labels: literature, poems, writings
Two Hearts
Two hearts have been captivated
Once with love, now they’re jaded
Two lovers that were torn apart
Two lovers now oceans apart
Trying hard to fight for what they had
Happiness, nothing but a façade
As the two of them yearn to be together
Together until forever
Love letters, they still wrote each other
But one word lost with every other
Eyes that teared until they dried
Their empty hearts they try to hide
But what happens when he meets someone new?
When she’s no longer the girl he once knew?
Trust, so strong yet so frail
A test they desperately don’t want to fail
But in their hearts, there is hope
That little spark that enables them to cope
That even when words no longer rhyme
They’ll be able to stand the test of time
That hope is what keeps them strong
Two hearts that have been aching for so long
When will they meet? No one knows
Each day they go where the river flows
But one day their paths will meet again
It doesn’t matter how, it doesn’t matter when
When that day comes they’ll know for sure
It was worth it; everyday they had to endure
That one day is what they wish for every night
When a star falls and takes its flight
That someday, again they’ll be together
Their hearts, eager to wait forever
But if that day never comes, they’ll understand
They’ll just have to deal with what’s at hand
Maybe they were never really meant to be
Maybe we were fools, you and me
But deep inside, I’ll be brave
My dying heart, I’ll try to save
Because if we’ll never be together
Maybe fate will bring something better
Labels: literature, poems, writings
Older Post
