Krysten Palen Poems

I dreamed of Spain, or Germany's skies,
To work or to study, with hope in my eyes.
But with just senior high, my dream couldn't land,
Their doors were still closed, though I longed for that stand.
...

It's been six months, perhaps even more,
No job in my hands, no work to explore.
Yet humbled I stand, for I clearly see,
How fragile money and time can be.
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Back in 2016, I recall the scene,
Matcha was bitter, unpleasant, unclean.
One sip on my tongue, I wanted to flee,
It felt like the drink was not meant for me.
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I walked to a company close to my place,
Applied with no hurry, just faith and some grace.
Assessments were given, interviews too,
To my surprise, I passed right through.
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I can't believe I'm here once more,
In this small room with an open door,
Learning things I thought I'd never find,
Sharing smiles that feel so kind.
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Through the window's gentle glow,
I watch the morning's colors grow,
Yet in the room, the voices fade,
And only light and dreams remain displayed.
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At four in the morning, the journey began,
We set off together inside an SUV van.
Five of us traveling, Papa, Mama, Kuya, Bebeh, and me,
With Kuya's kind gift, this trip came to be.
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At 4: 30 dawn, the sky still dim,
With Mama and Papa, I journey with them.
A bus to Pangasinan, five hours away,
To meet my dear aunt and brighten the day.
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After Pangasinan, to Bulacan we did go,
Mama longed for her brother, and Papa said so.
Six hours of travel, the road felt so wide,
Exhausted I was, yet joy was inside.
...