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Gusto ko simulan ang tulang ito sa tanong na "kamusta kana?"
Kamusta na ang taong minahal ko ng sobra pa sa sobra
Naging malungkot kaba nung ako'y nawala?
O naging masaya dahil wala na ako sa tabi mo sinta

Nagbabaliktanaw ako sa mga ala-ala noon na ating binuo
Naging masaya naman tayo
Kaya di ko alam anong dahilan mo para mag bago
Para masaktan mo ako ng ganito
Para iparamdam mo sa'kin na hindi ako kawalan mo
Para ipamukha mo sa'kin na wala na talagang TAYO
At ngayon napaisip ako kaya ka pala nagbago kasi may bago na palang nagpapatibok ng puso mo

Di ko mapigilan hindi magalit
Di ko mapigilan na hidi masaktan
Di ko mapigilan na lumuha hanggat gabi patungong umaga
Di ko mapigilan na tanggapin na ako nalang yung naiwang tanga
Tanga na umaasa na magkabalikan pa tayong dalawa
Umaasa at nagmamakaawa "Pakiusap mahal, usap tayo. Ayusin natin to"
Pero sarili ko lang pala ang niloloko ko
Kasi nakikita na kitang palayo at hindi na maaabot
Nakikita na kitang naglalakad kasama siya habang puso ko'y kumikirot

Kaya sa huling pagkakataon
Binalikan ko ang dati nating tagpuan
Nagbabasakali na ikaw ay madatnan
Pero namulat ako sa realidad na may mga bagay palang di na pwede maging katotohanan
Kaya heto nagbaliktanaw nalang ako sa mga magandang ala-ala na akin paring hinahawakan
Kasabay ng pag-agos ng alon ay ang pag-agos ng luhang nagasasabing kailangan ko na 'tong bitawan

Kaya ngayon tatahak nalang ako ng ibang landas
Maglalakad ako, pilitin na ang mga nangyari sa'ting dalawa ay maya-maya ay kukupas
Maglalakad ako, habang wala ka na sa tabi ko, yung taong minahal ko ng wagas
Maglalakad ako, maglalakad ako
Pero  lilingon parin ako at makikita ko ang iyong mga bakas
Bakas na patunay na ikaw ay naging totoo
At hindi panaginip na nilikha ng imahinasyon ko
Na merong ikaw na pansamantalang minahal ako
Merong ikaw na minsan ay ginawa kong mundo
Merong ikaw na tinanggap ng buong-buo at
Merong ako na sinubukang lumaban pero sa huli meron paring ikaw na bumitaw nalang ng bigla-biglaan

Hanggang ngayon naglalakad parin ako dala-dala ang katangang "Pinagtagpo pero di tinadhana"
Yan nga siguro kasi ang kwento nating dalawa
Ang mga landas natin na wari'y nagkita,
Ngunit hindi inalaan para magkasama.
Maglalakad ako, hanggang sa malimutan na kita mahal ko
How I used to wonder,
What you would wonder
When the skies were torn asunder.

Where the earth becomes molten
The seas turn to steam,
The universe unravelled at
It's seems.

We were lost and we burned
Reality still despite what we learned.
And from us fates love turned.

Tarnished,
Dehydrated in the heat,
Famished.

Drying out
Our minds faded,
Now we're dying out.

The bombs, War -
Tyrants buying out
Souls selling out.

And Anarchy ensues.
Not the most positive poem guys.
Love to all regardless
)o(
 Sep 2017 Suja Gunasegaran
Day
one. a cozy blanket
two. a worn out bed
three. a cracked window
four. a cool fall breeze
five. the sound of the crickets singing
six. protecting arms around me
seven. *an intimate goodnight kiss
 Sep 2017 Suja Gunasegaran
Hannah
my favorite time of the day is 4am,
or maybe it's my favorite time of the night.

whether I'm just waking up,
or just going to sleep,

the calm darkness and quiet reminds me
that right now it's only me and the moon.

I like to think that she listens.
I talk to her like company.

this is the most cozy time of night,
or maybe the easiest part of the day.

she is the only thing
that always comes back to me.
Indianapolis bleats and blares and protests too much
that the Hoosier state is an idyllic business paradise
with low taxes, low costs, low unemployment, low everything.

Indiana’s the Walmart of… wait, don’t fret about those woefully low wages,
the Indiana Chamber of Commerce reassures struggling, undernourished souls.
The low cost of living means that scant pittance isn’t really as bad as it seems.

Yet, all the blather and palaver and ideological would-you-rather
somehow fails to stem the ongoing, bleeding, gushing
exodus of the college educated out of state to scattered scintillating cities.

Propaganda engines like the Indiana Economic Development Corporation
trumpet all these purported jobs at some factory or warehouse or call center,
yet years later, a TV reporter stands in an empty field that never got developed.
We wake, we live,we laugh,we cry
We become blind to those who die inside.
Telling themselves lies
"You are the unworthy kind"
Fighting an unending battle
All alone and the fear rattles

Society can't save their live
Tagged​ them names,
they feel ashamed.
They breathe in the dark
For the sun acts like a spotlight
Revealing their unspoken misery.
Brainwashed, with a thought
of being more than dead,
they are misfits.

So you and I let's unite
Set aside our selfish hype.
Don't just pin the green ribbon to your shirt
But keep in mind, they are not different
There is no such thing as "their kind"
Depression is a phase most of us will encounter.
Like any other problem there is an answer.
Let's communicate-love,joy,hope,peace,
Reach out,
We need each other
Unite join the fight.
I was a victim of depression, saved by grace and by the love and care of Friends and family.
For those struggling with depression, know this- you are not alone.
One round
In the chamber,
Thirty in the magazine,
One moment makes a lifetime,
Two seconds taken to breath.
Three brothers at my back,
Four wolves in the hunt.
Five miles to ruck before rest,
Six hours to sleep tonight.
Seven days left for another week,
Eight civillians lost as collateral.
Nine houses cleared without incident,
The Tenth is where they're waiting.
Eleven minutes for the firefight,
Twelve rounds taken to the legs.
Thirteen minutes until Medevac arrives,
Fourteen month recovery.
Fifteen minutes left before lights out.

Mag is half full.

Sixteen hours to rest and clean weapons,
Seventeen men play cards in the barracks
Eighteen minutes left during fire guard,
Nineteen year old soldiers miss their family.
Twenty minute call home to loved ones.
Twentyone shots over a white headstone.
Twentytwo streets left to clear before dusk,
Twentythree families bustle in the bazaar.
Twentyfour hours in each day in hell.
Twentyfive men craving cigarettes.
Twentysix reports of gunfire this morning.
Twentyseven combatants killed.
Twentyeight days left in deployment.
Twentynine years old at honorable discharge,
30 family members waiting to welcome you home.
31 days in every month spent in the devil's sandbox.

Click
Mag is empty.
Drop mag
Draw new mag
Load into well
Hit bolt release
*Continue fighting
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