Why do parents wish for their kids to be supervisors,
managers, vice-presidents, presidents, or CEOs
of large and looming corporations, when in the womb,
the only light that bathed the baby was from mom's
sun, moon, and all the heavenly host in one?
When as a tumbling toddler every stark crimson
crack of the skin met with doting hands clasping
the healing balm? When every wise word drawn and laid
at the feet of the renegade teen came only from
hearts thorn-riddled? And now this death wish.
1 comment:
Nice contemplative poem, kuya Wawi. Link mo naman ako sa blog mo o. eheheheheh ^_^
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