chirping of birds on trees:
whistling of limbs scratching the ground,
flipping pages as sun revved up,
heart thumping hard in its cage,
with smiles of troupe blossoms,
yet one's back facing the aesthetic scenery,
farewell has never been goodbye.
BINABASA MO ANG
hiapoewy
Poetryyoung love cries with silence when awake, but all behold the same if they blink and dream. a collection of musing and free verse.
