What is a place but a vessel?
The walls are ordinary.
The floors are mundane.
The air is just like before.
So why then is sadness here?
Why do I weep for the boring?
I grieve the loss of what I had
Yet,
When It was there, I let it slip so fast.
I hurried
and
I rushed
Impatient.
Ungrateful.
Youthful rebellion that lead to nothing.
I see now my mistake.
Escape is not the beautiful thing I thought it was.
I should've taken it all in,
Instead I choked and spit it all out
All for a distasteful mirage made out of arrogance and a bit of shame.
I plant sampaguitas for wasted hours.
May they remind those who come around again.
Enjoy the dust you lucky ones.
