The secret to one's twenties is this;
one might argue but everything seems to feel like he's an open city.
The air surrounding him maybe crisp but so is the sound of the roving planes above.
The commute to his work feels like the days between Christmas day and New Year's eve, a momentary dose of emptiness.
The fear of being attacked is covered up by beautiful strolls on beaches and night outs in dive bars, but everyone knows he's an open city.
And so he sleeps with one eye open at night, for each silence is a kind of alarm.
The wind is hard to breathe, it carries the weight of tomorrow's worries.
Waking up the next day is heavier.
Sometimes he goes around the city drunk and chants 'just drop the bomb' so that he would know what to do, because at the back of his mind
is an ideology that still belonged to World War II.
The silence of the crowd in a fight
is never innocent.
An open city is doomed to be attacked.
*December 26, 1941, Manila was declared as an open city (which means it was defenseless) by Gen. Douglas McArthur in the hopes that it will be spared from any attack coming from the Japanese imperial forces during World War II. However, the Japanese ignored the announcement.
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PoetryOur hearts are brave as fire, minds gentle as earth, dreams are fluid as water, and our souls are as free as the wind. (Poetry and Prose) #2 of the end-live-begin trilogy.
