Precy Brozas Varilla
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Precy Brozas Varilla Poems
How could you? How could you Hold me back? Just free me
Falling forever Is what I seem Down below To a ground
An epitome of true beauty That’s what you are to me Greater than hordes of queens Brighter than the blinding sunbeams
Sometimes all I want is to run and hide, To vanish in an instant out of your sight, I wish to ride the wind or fly with a kite, To an unknown universe I’ll lay my life.
Mind’s somnolent, bones are weary Yet slumber floats away like a rare luxury Bonds of sadness I begged to free me But bliss is just another ancient mystery.
First Last Wish
If grace finally heeds my cry and whisks me away Or if in the morrow I fortunately rouse no more To bask in peace; relish the delights of the day Grant my wishes in death, I beg you before I soar.
Have you ever seen... The old beggar Down the cobbled street yonder Beseeching grace
The Unspoken Gratitude
All the time... She tells me I'm beautiful, I say I feel desolate and mirrors scream that I look awful. She adores my eyes round as owls; I say they look at a kaleidoscope with a scowl. She tells me I'm wonderful, I say I was born almost empty of beauty and grandeur.
Comments about Precy Brozas Varilla
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
How could you?
How could you
Hold me back?
Just free me
I desire not
To be your bird
In an iron cage.
Let me go
And let me breathe
I want my solace
Hence, let me find
What I deserve
Let me flutter
The secret treasure
Of my own measure.
Feed me no more
With another pious lie
Shut the door
I'll drink a cup of sigh
'Til I lose life's color
'Til the evening is nigh
Let me soar
Let me fly.
Let me turn my back
On this mundane world