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It's funny how I forgot all of it in just a snap
That moments ago, I'm craving for it like it's some kind of drug
Then getting rid of it
The way I get rid of my thumb ******* habit.

I have learned the art of being numb
And taught myself to be contented of what I can only get
Right now I don't even know how to approach you
And I can't even look you in the eye.

I can't even remember the last time we talked
Without using that high pitch voices and grumpy faces
I can't even recall if you have ever
Told me that you love me.  

And now's a very different situation
Guess who's reaching out to me---YOU
But don't you think it's a little too late
To make amends and do what you should have done years ago?

Nothing's ever too late really
It's just that I can't retrieve that part of me
Who have always wanted this time to come by
'Cause all that's left in me is hatred.


Krystal Marcelo
*01/28/16
This is the third part of my "four-part" poem for my Dad. Just to burst this thoughts that right until now I never dare told him. I know that I'm not the only one who undergone this kind of situations so I hope you can relate to it. I hardly make it rhyme but I hope this gonna make sense...
 Feb 2016 Aroody
Stella Stardust
Notice a regimented city full of ants
Where shoulders rub without a glance
And never do bowed heads look up
To notice men with trembling cups
To see the sky, and admit its worth
Embrace our helplessness from birth
Invisible chains brace personal spaces
To widen the gaps from race to races

Moving back and forth, Up and down
We scour the maze for gains to be found
Blinders on, we tunnel our way
Never stop to talk, it creates delay
The troubles of others are theirs alone
Emotions cause chaos, changes faces to stone
Be the best for yourself, climb to the top
And stomp on the heads of the weak who have stopped

But who will be there when your limbs give out?
When age leaves you breathless, unable to shout
When illness takes over and you can't quite recall
What it was that you climbed for, was it important at all?
When the money and materials you collected so dear
Gather dust on a shelf without one which to share
All your life you have strived to reach top the hill
And you finally get there, just to feel unfulfilled

Take a look around now and notice this place
Take the time to stop and study each face
Always keep your dreams and aspirations afloat
But let others in and let love be your boat
Empathize with others, try and feel what they felt
You never quite know the cards they've been dealt
The key to success is to take notice of grace
We are not working ants, we are the human race
Going back to the old days
I never dreamed of anything big
Not of wealth, not of fairy tales
But just a little space in your heart.

A chance to be acknowledged
A chance to be appreciated
And patiently anticipating for the day
That I would not be invisible in your sight anymore.

There's nothing ever mattered to me
Than to be called as a "daddy's girl"
Probably I idolized you so much
That I'm mimicking every little thing that you do.

From the way you sit on that little porch of ours
As you smoke there every morning
To the way you pull your shirt halfway to your chest
When it's getting terribly hot outside.

I even remembered that time when I went home sobbing
'Cause I heard a bunch of men,
Whom you consider your true friends,
Backstabbing you which made me mad and wanna hit them that time.

I have done everything---almost everything
But all efforts were all in vain
And that concept of reaching out to you
Just disintegrate in my system unknowingly.


Krystal Marcelo
*01/28/16
This is the second part of my "four-part" poem for my Dad. Just to burst this thoughts that right until now I never dare told him. I know that I'm not the only one who undergone this kind of situations so I hope you can relate to it. I hardly make it rhyme but I hope this gonna make sense...
Not a premature baby
But as tiny as a kitten
Incubated for the first few hours of existence
And told that might be dying.

Those mentioned before just added
To the reasons you dislike me
Aside from the fact that I'm a girl
And you have always wanted a boy for your firstborn.

I remembered the line from the movie 'Noah'
When Ila asked him why he spared the twins
And he said,"I looked down at those two little girls
and all I had in my heart was love
."
And wondered if you haven't seen that kind of love
When you looked down on me.

'Cause you held me in your arms
Without gentleness
Like I'm not vulnerable
Like I'm not from your own flesh and blood.

As I'm growing into my skin
The more I crave for your attention
For your affection
But I got nothing.

And as the day passed by
The more you made me feel how unwanted I am.


Krystal Marcelo
*01/28/16
This is the first part of my "four-part" poem for my Dad. Just to burst this thoughts that right until now I never dare told him. I know that I'm not the only one who undergone this kind of situations so I hope you can relate to it. I hardly make it rhyme but I hope this gonna make sense...
 Feb 2016 Aroody
Jeffrey Oliviero
How can a non-believer
suddenly believe in the power?
Be the man behind a trigger
covered in carbon powder

How can a non-believer
suddenly believe in ghosts?
Be the man behind the rifle
as any threat approached

How can a non-believer
suddenly believe there's hope?
When those we hold close
Tie a rope around their throat
to meet a suicide quota

How can a non-believer
suddenly believe in himself?
Be the bigger and better man
unafraid to ask for help
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