Dear Next Ingenues, this piece was made for you
From a predecessor who had one wore that shoe
of innocence and trust, and hoping all men were true;
May you navigate the world with much more than a clue.

Drown Not In your tears, or sorrow, or regret,
For all this youth, one day, the pain you'll forget.
Keep my hope for your future somewhere in your pocket.
There will be far better memories to be found in this market.

Desire No Indiscretions to be made on your part.
Remain guarded but never shut off wholly your heart.
It's never like the movies, but we're all pieces of art
unfinished forever, but always welcome to restart.

Determine Neither Idiocy, or martyrdom, or the like.
Make the pushy and needy go on a well-deserved hike.
Better protect your peace than have your heart on a spike.
Stand your ground, loud and clear, if you can into a mic.

Do Not Interact with those of unclear intention,
Turn the other way if they're of a degeneration.
Best redirect all of that wide-eyed attention
to a more worthy, appropriate target selection.

Detest No Impossibility of hope in the future.
No wound can't be patched with a metaphorical suture.
While scars may remain as a mark of the mature,
Nothing is set in stone that you won't pick to be sure.

Dare Not Intimidate and undermine your youth
for such a life is, at minimum, an inconvenient truth.
The world may demand eye for eye, and tooth for tooth,
but what is growth if not lives lived ever unsmooth.

It's divinely inscribed that loving means patience
and kindness, honesty, humility, and hope:
Most things that are lacking in my personnel essence,
a setback tying me down like a rope.
Now the challenge arises, to tread a new pace.
Take the road less traveled, unlearn what I knew.
As for weakness written well all over my face,
I'm not only hopeful, I'm horrified too.
To watch things unfold to the slow beat of my heart,
see things as they are instead of how it might be;
and though I am eager to see the next part,
I revel in the unrushed, gentle moments of happy.
Because good things come to all those who wait;
I know that one day, it will surely be great.

You're a pest that plagues me though I never ask.
You linger in my head at every one of my tasks.
You are where I look for where you shouldn't be,
You really are becoming an obsession to me.

You are also a fear that I might not admit.
You are something I've lost, though were we ever "it"?
You are the wish I make at every 11:11;
You're always protected, as I pray of the heavens.

You are a dream, and you, you're a nightmare too.
You are intrigue, making me want to be with you.
You're my first waking thought, and I have no idea why.
You're the whisper in my heart saying the last line was a lie.

You are the truth I try not to loathe so.
You are the home I want to carry wherever I go.
You are gravity, but stronger-- like Jupiter, not Earth,
You're the reason I acknowledge a deeper self-worth.

You're the root cause I longed to be from a different town,
You're the last excuse why I will willingly clown.
You've brought ink back to my fingers and words in my heart;
You, you most mythical masterpiece of art.

You, who I want to protect from the pain.
You could gain it or lose it if with me you remain.
You are the destination of both my heart and mind.
You should leave my daydreams and see what we find.

You are not just the fantasy I have in my head.
You are not just the deep aching I want in my bed.
You are more and I know it, but how can I be sure?
You are someone I want but can't act on for more.

It all began with a simple search for a cure.
But tomorrow is filled with fear for sure
Crocodiles and snakes will now need to lure--
Who will go to jail next to keep the nation “secure”?

The Filipino ferocity is finely defined.
We will always fight until the end of the line.
For the justice, we’ll charge then add a finel
Everything that has started, finds an end in design.

What would the past “terrorist” Jose Rizal say
If he knew the elected far from duty astray?
Would he join the gagging nation in this age and day
For rights and freedoms nabbed like thieves all the way?

Politicians aren’t gods to be expected of mercy.
So we’ll do all the work and then make them see.
Do they witness and laugh, lay back, take it easy?
Are their souls still present or just absentee?

Do they not hear all the people who sing
In the Kawit-like pride at independence’s first ring?
Where now is the candidate who won by promising
That he’ll be fine in hell if we were paradise-living?

Everyone who was chained will meet freedom too.
Just so if peace was the goal, real and true.
Won’t stand anymore for a sky in dark hue.
There’s a change coming in the way the wind blew.

Don’t walk away, and keep your eyes open.
Listen to what was spoken, read up on what is written.
History will remember all our actions taken,
If to God, people, or nation, your loyalty was given.

It took valor to deal with what the water gave me.
It took grit to jump and fall into the sea.
Though at loss of my bearings, I have no regrets,
for what little comes of it, it is still the best.

What the water gave me struggles, as I am the storm.
But water is complacent, and takes whatever form.
There's not a lot I won't give to live life with a tail,
chase this high 'cross the ocean with a fragile sail.

What the water gave me came through and overflowed.
The current rushed in too quickly, I can't pay what is owed.
It was never a sin to ride the waves of your emotions,
but fear the undertow and surf only with all of the cautions.

What the water gave me was the white whale to my Ahab.
The difference is I can't give what I don't think I have.
So it comes back to me, the pointed end of harpoon.
Like a paradox tale, everything was "too soon".

What the water gave me ever slips through my fingers.
Either way, best let go 'cause it's harmful to linger.
Like a sailor fallen prey to a mermaid's last song,
one can only wonder where it will all go wrong.

What the water gave me is a treasure I hold dear,
the best dream, strongest vision, my weakness and fear.
It is love and compassion, everything I wish I could be.
All this time, it was you who the water gave me.

It's one thing to be known for, though it won't last forever.
This thing they say lies in the eye of the beholder.
And yet I see it not when I stand before a mirror,
what about my visage sends crowds into a fever.

Have I been reduced to nothing but just a fine face:
a pretty thing to look at in a crowded place?
Embraced by the darkness of an unholy grace,
I'm no more than a gem floating about in space.

What value is left for what's solely coveted
when tasted by many and left undefended?
When hope is a drug for one who's pretended
for so long that it's alright once it's ended,

Is there worth in what's empty? A hollow shell?
After heaving and spewing hot tears from hell.
But as long as I'm pretty, it will all be well.
As long as there's beauty and physique to sell.

There is pain in ignoring the words they say.
Nothing more than "you look beautiful today."
Nothing more than the contagion in the way
they say my smile can brighten up a day.

Yet with where I am now, I just wish I weren't
gorgeous, pretty, or lovely, a nice looking ****.
Maybe if good-looking was something I wasn't,
I wouldn't be hurting, feeling spent or burnt.

Will I spend my whole life running from hands
who only want to touch me and feel me up grand?
Only to run to hands who will be nice and
not leave me crawling in the gravel and sand?

Words and rhymes are valueless as my plea,
if it isn't something on my face all can see.
Though my heart is as vast and as deep as the sea,
It's the last thought of anyone who looks at me.