We all cough.
You hear it at home, outside,
Out the streets, in the subway,
"Ugh-Hhuh!"

If you think about it,
A world without coughs would be quite
strange,
Indeed.

Stranger perhaps than a world without love;
Coughs are ubiquitous; Love is not.

It is strange, her feelings towards me,
One moment she is full of love ,
The next fills me with fear,
Creates a feeling of being trapped in my own home,
Never completely sure in which direction her feelings are going
She loves me because I am her daughter,
Dislikes me because I am me.
The expressions of love,
The shouts of anger,
Her feelings towards me, they are strange.

(For Timothy)

Twas a short poem I was reading...
I had started writing my comments, when...
A very strange feeling rushed through me.
With very strange thoughts:

"This... has exactly happened before...
This poem, I have read before...
Written these very same thoughts before!"

Over and over, I blinked...I had to make sure...
But, all at once, one brief moment...
I found myself seated beside a grand piano,
By a wide ostentatious stairway,
In a bright, candle-lit mansion...
But, stranger still, while I was writing,
My eyes strayed to my right,
To a mirror by the wall...
I saw a handsome young man,
With slightly long curly hair,
Wearing a long-sleeved, white ruffled shirt
And a pair of dark pants,
Holding paper and quill,
Looking back at me...

I was staring at myself!

I was holding a paper
Where I had written my thoughts
About a poem titled
"WILT...."

( November 5, 2013/ 2:00PM)

Sally

Copyright 2013
Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan