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melanncholic Oct 2017
III
Some days,
When I'm not with you,
I turn a page,
I turn it backwards.

Each turn,
I thirst for more,
To get to know,
'what was' from before.

Guilty, I am.
From doing this,
For each page equates,
a selfish turn of mine.

Some parts,
the imperfect ones,
I embrace it all,
All black and white,

Hoping that,
when tomorrow comes,
Soon we'll see,
Nothing but rainbows.
melanncholic Aug 2017
Ilang beses pa ba patutugtugin?
Ang lumbay na dinig lamang ng hangin,
Ilang beses pa ba paaasahin?
Ang inaasam asam na ika'y umamin.

Ilang oras pa ba ang gugugulin,
Sa ulap na sadyang malalim ang tingin,
Sa pagtibok ng pusong kay tulin,
Sa pagdasal sa tadhana ng "sana ikaw rin".

Ilang araw pa ba ang palilipasin?
Sa inaasam na ako'y papansinin mo rin.
Sa iniisip-isip na dama mo rin ba?
Sa sariling pinapaasang meron nga ba?

Ilang beses pa ba iintindihin,
Mga araw na di  ka pwedeng kausapin,
Mga araw na di ka pwedeng pangitiiin,
Mga araw na di ka pwedeng biruin.

Ilang beses ko pa bang pipiliin,
Ilang beses ko pa ba hihintayin,
Ilang beses ko pa bang pagmamasdan,
Yung "tayo" na suntok sa buwan.
melanncholic Aug 2017
I was once a red rose
whose shade was deep and dark
As deep as red, as dark as blood
A vulnerable one, it is.

I was once a red rose
Who left my roots,
Who left the others,
Without resistence.

I was once picked,
I was once lured,
I was even thornless,
In someone's hands

I was once a red rose,
Whose petals were still wrapped,
Until and until,
It bloomed by the soul's first touch

I was once a red rose,
I was once a true one,
Who was in perfect shade
Of blood red and pure

I was once a red rose,
Whose youth was timeless
Whose color was fadeless
For four long years.

And all of a sudden,
His touch was no more,
Tick-o-tock the time unfroze,
I was once a red rose but not anymore.
I may still be but now with thorns.

— The End —