CATHY's ADVICE
I had a long chat with my high school seatmate Cathy a couple of weeks ago. It was so nice to talk to her again after a very long time. She has migrated, fell inlove, got her heart broken, cried an ocean, fell inlove again, got married and now living blissfully. She has always been a delight to talk to, so sweet.. to the point that I sometimes wish I could be like her, but then again it would not be me anymore.
She was very enthusiastic when she was telling me about her wedding. How she met her lucky husband, how i loved the personal touch of her menu, how she managed to look stunning despite the fact that it was a do-it-yourself wedding. Of course, no catching up will be complete without a little nostalgia… our carefree junior high school days, how we would go around the classroom after lunch break to collect some coins from our classmates to be donated to the school to build a new gymnasium (she was the elected treasurer, i was her appointed assistant) and the times i would go to their house in las pinas to finish some projects.
Then she asked me if I still write poetry. I said not anymore. I was pleasantly surprised that she remembered that I used to write poems. Of course my works would not have been comparable to a Sartre, nor could have it been worthy of a Noble prize, but just the fact that someone remembered my works was compliment enough. I used to write poetry, back in high school,intense emotions triggers my literary creativity.
Cathy then asked me to try it again, at least to keep me off the television. So here goes… I am not so sure if Cathy checks my blog.. i hope she’ll have time to blog hop one of these days and chance upon my page.
TEARS
The tears I shed,
tell so many tales,
If you see tears rolling down my cheeks,
Would you care enough to ask?
or care even more to listen?
Did I shed a tear because of deep sorrow?
Or could it be tears of joy?
I could have cried out of anger,
or could it be out of fear?
Would tears be enough to replace words I could not say;
like how much I am sorry, or how much I worry?
Am I glad? Am I sad? Am I hurt?
Is it because I am missing you?
Or is it because I am happy of where I am right now without you?
Did I try and lost?
Or was I lost and now happily found?
What are the tales that my tears are telling?
Would you bother to stop and try to comprehend?
Or would you just look away, and pretend you never saw me crying?
