Competing with the beat,
Exchanging smiles of contentment;
Not bothering any entertainment,
Staring eyes in bewilderment.
Talking the language of love,
Swaying arms like of a dove;
Chasing as something to prove,
Remaining modest in every move.
Such dance that changed my heart,
In the depth of that formed a knot;
A promise of future and a sweetheart,
It’s overwhelming that killed me, which was not.
It was old times, now I’m a decade times old.
My old man died before this sickly old woman.
Years and years spent with him,
I can say I have many things to thank Him.
***
Collaboration with Rest Zone.
–outofwordtheater
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Mga Tula (Poems)
PoesieMga Tula is a bunch of poems compiled and made by my vague mind. Some of these compilation of poems were taken from the stories I made. There are also poems made by my cousins and also, poems made by myself. So please, beware of dog. Ay este. Words...
