Is finding oneself an eternity?
How many papers have I crumpled?
How much amount of ink ran out?
Over and over again, words will be used
Running in circles
Hoping that every breath, every sigh would suffice
And each letter would spell out my screams
But why?
Even as I reach the last part of my piece,
still, it is not enough
Bakit?
Ang hirap palang hanapin ang sarili
Ilang papel na ba ang nalukot ko?
Ilang panulat na ba ang naubos?
Paulit-ulit
Gagamitin ang mga salita
Aakalaing sapat ang mga bugtong hininga't
paghahayag ng damdamin gamit ang mga titik
Ngunit bakit ni marating man huling tuldok,
Kulang pa rin?
Kulang na kulang pa rin.
YOU ARE READING
My Daily Poetry
Puisitrembling hands narrate, whatever the mind paints; reconciling the mess made, created by affection and hate; papers serve as scapegoat, concocting it as remedy; shaping one's story, creating thy poetry.
