It's hot.
I don't think I can
Handle it.
It's painful.
And I don't know
Why.
The flame is roaring,
Screaming its
Desperate plea.
It's maddening
As it licks at my soul.
Free me from
The fire
Before I am
Consumed.
BINABASA MO ANG
Freedom
PoetryIt's called "Freedom" because I used to hold all of my feelings inside. Then I found a way to let it go- writing. I'm free again, and I want you to know how I used to feel, and the feelings that still haunt me. Oh, and never forget how dramatic us w...
