And you will fill my heart,
I can find.
Yet to have known,
And loved you the years,
In which I had grown.
I will love as the same,
‘coz in my eye’s
You will always stay the same,
And be loved,
With no other name.
Expectations are a bitch,
Disappointments would be the demons of my heart,
if I do put all these in everything I do,
Then I am no worse,
And yes I will
And yes I will make,
What of it,
That lies beneath from it.
Then I shall take my helm and use that which
Blinds my mind,
To beat my heels out of all things,
I know it may progress an improvement
And use every faltering failures,
As my boots,
And I may surely walk out of
Into the clearing of limbo
Of my own
Where is the heart,
Where is my love,
I cannot find you.
When did I lose you,
When was the time we fell in love.
I am here
Telling screaming shouting,
I am silently waiting,
For U to come get me,
I will wait,
But don’t be late,
I am gladly mad,
For we can make up time,
In that bed where we used to have
Conversations under our arms in twine,
To live each other,
And start each day like no other,
For nor infinity
Not even eternal,
My love for you grows each time,
A day that we plant misses upon our skin,
As the water flows from our rain.
Remind me to rewind my mind,
and see if that yesterday was deja vu since last Tuesday.
And that line of hers, wasted me a Friday,
where wanted nothing more to,
do something out of conversation since
Do I have to stress this now,
where my day can be as good
as it can be,
not tomorrow. . .
but as I walk into the hall of beauties,
in that good ol cafe.
Isang ibon ang aking na alala
pag ika’y nakikita,
na pumanaw sa aking unang silang
sa umagang natandaan.
At ako’y nag papaka tanga sa pag ibig
na bumubulag sa pusong kong wala
ano mang makita kung di ang iyong
pag ibig na walang ningning.
With your skin silky soft,
against my manly bruised arms,
holding me gently as I knead my cheeks unto yours.
Then we caress the love we need, not the lust we dont want.
Mula ng ako ay nawalan ng malay sa iyong palad,
Nakita ko na ako pala ang may ibang mulat sa pag ibig mo.
On that pillow that i used to lay when we parted that night,
I know that you were only there for the outlet of this fingers that knew.
A rose is no other than its bud,
a scent hath no other,
I gave way too many,
still you scour and put
me in a sour mood.
The next time,
it wont be red,
only tulip instead.