(hi. I actually wrote this to voice out for my fellow Filipino's. The country is currently facing a lot of challenges, and it makes me sad that I can't do anything to help them. But in God's name, I know they will be able to rise again. Laban lang.)
" I Donate My Pen "
pardon,
for i am —
but - a poet who can give her pen
for i am not Croesus
nor born of absolute power
to save their woeful
and drowning souls
pardon,
for i am a poet
and i can ink only
their clamor
heedless of response.
—
if they were as shiny as gold
and as clear as diamond,
will that index finger of yours,
will point and fancy to get them
in the surface?
but you got bricks of valuable stone
a manor, a mansion, a villa
- dreams warmed by the bed of roses
a trance in your haven
but hey,
why do you have the aegis?
once, i saw them in my dream
under the blanket of tears
facing the nightmare of life
i see no roof
for it was the last of their hope
wrench by the water
soaked by the storm
catching raindrops
and embracing a dicey fate,
they hymn the hope of life
yet, why?
why can you not cry?
i saw in her arms
the child she bore from her womb;
his wife entrusting him a vow;
her father waving for goodbye;
an honorable end;
a last kiss goodnight;
a bid of farewell for the dusk;
a plea for a lift
as the dawn comes for a chance
they waited,
and waited.
they begged,
and waited,
and still waiting.
—
pardon,
for am, but a poet
she who was killed by emotions.
pardon,
for i know not your side.
but you could have done something
— you heard them, after all.
