Sullen thoughts at the Streets of P.Guevarra

The mind starts to fly when the heart was
consumed by loneliness beyond reason.
Tears are about to fall but are always stopped
by an unknown strength that makes the throat aches.
There is something wrong.
Something is missing, which have long been identified
but still afraid to recognize.
Will it make any difference if the
body is not abused by a void toil?
The thing is, it is here.
Happening in concrete clarity, 20-20,
though the eyes gets blurry with tiredness.
There’s no way of escaping it.
The loneliness, the tears that are about to fall,
the early morning thoughts of melancholy.
To face these would make the mind enduring
and the heart strong but skeptical.
No longer believes in the coming of a vibrant afternoon
like a 90-year old in the acacia tree looking at the horizon at 4.
Just embrace it as long as there’s air, water, light
and all surviving elements life provided as an excuse to make us hold on.
Just embrace it like a ten-year old girl freely
inhaling the smoke from Grandma’s tobacco.
Not knowing that continuous exposure would kill her in the end.
Still, that girl has a choice. To inhale grandma’s smoke in the sala or
to go out of the house, stare at the sun and blind her eyes.