Highest Chairs Poem by Princess Bernadette Anillo

Drowning in tears in torn pockets
Waiting for the rain in the middle of drought
Longing for the key to locked secrets
Singing the anthem of hope and doubt
Hiding in the caves of a fragile shelter
Trying to live a life with strong grips
Finding the way to the missing answer
Unwrapping the masks of betraying gifts
Covering ears from sweet sarcasm
Mocking the options of selfishness
Speaking about things like plagiarism
Worrying about giving up to hopelessness

Tired of complaining with no one restraining
The filter of ones souls are ending up worse
Temptations are in every little bit of our blood running
In the misery and suffering of our own curse

The highest chairs in the highest mountains
Never walked the hike on foot
So if they do not care about what they have missed
They should not think they're too high to be good