I don't know why babies cry at their first breath in the world
As if it tells the adults all of their feelings without the word
Maybe because they knew they had to bid goodbye with peace
And to say hello to their fella called pain that can never be please
My days started with March
My end seems no ending that push me to budge
It's as if my life is full of adventures with traps
And my heart to endure an on going wrath with throbb
Okay okay. My tears is for a great cause
Okay okay. It's so I can find what I loss.
But can't I for a moment blink and take a pause?
Cause where and when did my path suddenly goes?
In this road I'm taking, there are hundreds of branch that I want to take with me
But I cannot ever take a lot, only one is to be
Can't I be a teacher? The teacher that is fond of kids?
Can't I be a doctor? The doctor that loves to help?
Can't I be a writer? The writer that creates his own journey?
And if I fall on those branches why and how can I not take them all?
In between of wanting and needs, you have to sacrifice one.
And I know. It's clear that without my needs we'll be gone.
But what about my wants that makes me alive?
Without the practicality, we're faded and without my desires, I'm dead.
So why... does the grown up baby cry at March?
Oh...
Thus revolution is a must. Without it we'll be left behind.
And I am one of those who gets drown with too much pressure so I hide
But I only get left behind more...
Because I'm hiding without moving.
Cause what and who am I fighting for?
Dedicated to, DiaryniMsPanget!! O mars mahaba na yan ah 😤
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One Hundred Fifty
RandomFifty, Fifty, Fifty A writing challenge for myself is to create fifty poems, fifty essays, and fifty one-shot stories, every single prekeng day to make it a hundred and fifty days of honing my skills and giving sparks to my interest. Here's the deal...
