All I see is wasted time
Wasted feelings and missed opportunities
Life passing infront of my eyes
Getting old when yesterday I was just a kid
Walking on a long road along the city lights
Wondering why I am here when there is so much more to life.

Bridges burn and rivers dry,
Kingdoms turn to ashes.
We live on, not knowing why
Eons feel like flashes.

Trees grow old and stars collide,
Powers fall and crumble.
Some would kneel just to survive,
Blindly trudge and stumble…

Birds go mute and maps outdate,
Loses gold its lustre.
Crowds of fools besmirched with hate
Seek another Master.

Darkness now abides in there
Where oft hope sprang eternal.
Foul is the morning air
That much was sweet and vernal.

Sky falls down and ills abound,
Lights are now extinguished.
Gone for good, not to be found,
Freedom once relinquished.

At once, coffee and tea,
next second, scans.
Sweet, to hints of saccharine.
Burned bread is one
thing to dunk-- but diagrams?

Tunnel to the light, here
is the night. All
fall prey to life.
Tunnel to the light, here
falls the night. All
fall prey.

Now, you hasten.
I am still slow.
What will I do,
though, when you go?

Let's find out.

my earliest memory of yeye (grandfather)
is one with the garden
it was once a large space of emptiness, yet
sometimes emptiness is not a lack of but an opportunity
for planting and for growing

in this garden he planted memories
looping a hose around the garden suddenly created new meaning
chasing after turtles my cheeks turned rosy and drenched in the sun the details are so clear
it’s like watching a motion picture in slow motion, the speed of everything melting into a single emotion i can only describe as childish joy.

and when the sun slept the garden was still alight
with firecrackers and sparklers
the sizzling sound of springtime spirit
he kept the garden glowing, bustling and radiating with life.

as i grew the flowers did too,
a new type of rose, fruit, bud each time i came back
and this is where i learn
how life begins and ends
just like flowers we must seek the sun
wilt and
fall
root and rise
and only then
can we bloom
and he bloomed so bright that the Lord hand picked him

and so he may have left his own garden
but he has not wilted
he only continues to bloom
this time in the garden of heaven.