“What about the Leftovers?”
Ferocious eyes towards the filthy porcelains
Darn! I’m not in the mood for light responsibility
I held the sponge and eliminate the stains
With clenched fists, I knew how to defy gravity
The water rushed like me and my Papa’s verocious fight
O! How I wished he would die this very hour!
But he’s in the hospital, confined, staying for the night
If he dies, then I guess we’re left as sobers
Pissed off and mad with these stupid leftovers to throw
My cousin rushed to me like a feline with an aim to steal
In my heart and mind, I’ve sunken so low
To hear he’s gone; he ain’t coming back for real
Crying… waiting to see my papa in a coffin sooner
I turned back to see the sink; wait… what about the leftovers?
*** *** ***
Our loves too strong for death to unbind
Our happy moments, I’ll surely rewind.
_____________________________
This poem has brought me to the second top spot in the previous Regional Higher Education Press Conference.
I acknowledge the greatness of our speaker and judge, Joselito delos Reyes, my co-staffers and friends.
To Momski, who trained me along the way.
To my deceased Father who has been my inspiration.
To God, the Father, who has graced me with his most generous blessing and for guiding me with my words and thoughts. I would never give up mu faith in You O Father!
