In Burnham... Poem by RIC BASTASA

In Burnham...



i may be hard to please
this i may accept, while

in Baguio as i walk Burnham
park again early dawn when
my breath freezes in the wind
i cannot be notice, how

swans are made from wood,
how a man-made lake turns
to its muddy color, not at

all pleasing to my senses.
how i left the place and
found my way back to your
arms again, so, so displeased.

Friday, October 21, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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RIC BASTASA

RIC BASTASA

Philippines
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