How one sets aperture
distorts not reality— it is the crop.
Though underexposure dims
A 17-year Old Boy
Minamahal kita, sa katabi mong tabing
Sa alikabok ng kalsada
He didn't tell anyone he would come,
And no one even invited him in too.
Kissing a hand now seems gone,
I wish to see it yet find not one,
Nature, God's perfect piece of art.
The intricate hues of flowers,
I open my eyes as I woke up today,
And thanked God am still alive and free.
This is dedicated to everyone who thinks they are all alone and no one cares about them.
Walking on this lonely road
Without a place to call my home
Wilting flowers' all I see
Washed away by evening breeze
All the needs I barely had
All the wants I'll never have
Alluring memories of past
Asking why they didn't last
In this journey that I face
I surely wouldn't want to haste
Instant judgements might lead wrong
In proving others I belong
Time will heal all wounds, they say
That it is worthwile just to wait
Tinkering on time's own pace