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rosy Aug 2018
I met death in a glimpse
In the middle of writing when my ink ran out
At the store when there's no more stock
Every Monday morning when my alarm shouts

I swallow joy every now and then
Every time the coffee touches my lips
When mangoes tease my tongue
In every mint that electrifies my body

I saw love every morning
On our dining table where rice, eggs, and hot choco greet each other
In the baker's twinkling eyes when I say good morning
With a lending hand ready to pass my nine peso fare

In the world where evil resides
Goodness still wouldn't drown
Look around and there's still hope ingrained
It's in the little things we miss and take for granted

— The End —