(November 23,1989 / Lampanusan Kalilangan Bukidnon)

What do you think this poem is about?

A Poem a Day

The pen starts scribbling
and out the words came
written on paper
erasing its nothingness.
A poem a day
is such a tedious hobby
it drains the brain
as it drains the veins.
till your hands feel weary,
then you get tired, then you stop.
sweet man,
if you can read my poems
when I'm gone,
commemorate not
what I have done,
Remember me sweet man,
Remember me sweet man.

Submitted: Monday, May 02, 2011
Edited: Wednesday, May 04, 2011


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