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She likes trouble, she likes music
She's simple, and she's romantic
She likes poems, and complicated feelings
She wandered home while singing random lyrics
She then remembered, of a time she's went to nowhere
In front of the ocean, looking at wild waves
And in the reflection of the water she stares
And realized how she was rare
She's alone for quite some time
Cause nobody can understand a pickwickian
Especially if you're a shallow human
Who doesn't even know how to make poems rhyme
She's a special eccentric lady
She's prone to experience reverie
She likes to wander through a vadon
With her, barefoot feeling dry leaves, in fall season
She likes to think of herself as a witch
Likes to serenize things
She, who is not fond to stitch
But she appreciates paintings
In front of the ocean she took
Her journal and read it like a book
She lift up her chin, and as the cloud moves
She shed a tear while she looks
She really thinks she could make it and let them see
That she'll improve and could be anything she wants to be
So it may be, in front of an ocean waters
Or a deceiving garden of flowers
She's willing to explore it with curiosity
And she'll pass it even with difficulty
She'll find out what's rest of history
I know, for I am she and she is me
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DON'T FORGET TO VOTE AND COMMENT!
BINABASA MO ANG
ANTHOLOGY
RandomEntering the door of your nostalgic dreams // Original work // Series of my works
