November 21 2009 Poem by Kristoffer Randolf Ramos

T’was on the 21st of November’s night were cold

Where crickets on the midst of the night

Echoes the music from their voices

The repertoire told to much tale

A music to my ear



The temperate cold leaves my body bend

Under the blanket, half of my story unsaid

The cold wind brightens my mind

Such a gleeful time to refresh memories

Great feeling for my intimate self bind



I find the night so amusing

There is is a beauty in simple thing

The crickets that live in the temperate cold

How would I not survive this cruel world?



If I were to decode the nights repertoire

God will tell me that life is

Living to be happy

If I could wash away this playful thought

A positive view on life is what I hold