poet Gil Gregorio

Gil Gregorio

I'M On A Lonely Road

one day…
i’ve taken a road alone
searching…
as i walked by;
trying to mend
unknown feelings
i couldn’t understand.

another day…
i’ve taken a road alone again
searching my soul…
as i wander by;
seeing many wonders
unknown in my being,
i couldn’t understand why.

i’m alone
no identity
no people to love.

i’m dwelling in this makeshift hut
made of cartoon boards with no nails
but plastics overboard.
i saw lights while walking
in these lonely roads,
but trailed them off
again to this wilderness.

all alone
no identity
no people to care.

i saw no lights while seeking
in this lonely road
i’ve chosen to walk by.

i’m a beggar.

.................................. .................................
Revised version #1

I took a lonely road


I'm no-one's personality
but wearing lavish clothes
and bountiful jewelry.

One day...
I took a road alone
to search meaning of life
as I walk by;
I try to mend
this broken feeling
as I reflect, the past die.

Another day...
I took a road alone again
to recuperate from hurting upend
as I breathe by;
I see plenty of hearts loudly cry
in the center of a maze
as I see, the present die.

Now, I'm no-one's dignity
wearing sack clothes
and less jewelry.

I dwell in a makeshift hut
bind no nails least cartoon rods;
my light is a fire out
of a streetlamp shadow;
a fair consolation
from a well-off few.

I own no riches of fine gold,
no mansion's ensign;
but live like a beggar
with freedom
in style.

----------
Revisions #2

I take a road


I'm not an actor
but I wear lavish clothes
in luxury.

One day...
I take a road
to search meaning of life
as I walk by;
I try to heal
this broken heart
and see my past dies.

Another day...
I take a road so far
to spend a moment of life
playing as I breathe by;
I see plenty of heart ache cry,
but yes a loser I was
to witness the present die.

Now,
I live as king on my own
wearing sack cloth
and outdate jewelry.

I dwell in a makeshift hut
bind no nails least carton rods;
my light is a fire out
of a streetlamp shadow;
a fair consolation
from a well-off few.

I own no riches of fine gold:
no mansion’s ensign,
no linen clothes.
Yet I’m happy like a beggar,
with freedom
in style.

Poem Submitted: Thursday, September 4, 2008
Poem Edited: Thursday, September 11, 2008

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