Friday, June 11, 2010


Sometime,before the river dried up
and many huge pipe drink from it
to water our plants in the farm;
You take good care of me ,Mom.

Sometime,when our table was full
of foods in every meal,
more than enough for us to eat;
You serve me with a smile,Mom.

Sometime,when Dad was able to work
for our basic needs and wants
where you played mah-jong with friends all night
You never get angry at me,Mom.

Sometime,before you lose hope,
before Dad left us for another woman,
where my smiles still matter to you
You protect me with your best,Mom.

Sometime,I think of those times
after you sold me like a pig
Damn! It hurts to hear the murmurs
Are you hearing the murmurs of my tears too,Mom?

Sometime,you have no idea,
when you are enjoying the dew of meadows
At least free to the rushing of rivers;
I am being used by men,Mom.

Sometimes ,when black clouds thickened
and all I have left is I and the night
I no longer felt the tender of your cradle,
wishing that I didnt came from your womb,Mom

No comments:

Post a Comment