Quir Diing Jr.
Letters From The Past: To My Dearest Children - Poem by Quir Diing Jr.
I must admit how happily you are living life.
Profoundly beautiful if I may stress.
A well-lit roof you dwell under
I see you all day biking down the street
From late spring to early autumn.
Giggling gaily as the king could be
Knowing amicably that a silver spoon awaits
You at the dinner table.
A delicious aroma of dim sum prepared by her.
Your dearest, excellent, loving mother.
Nonetheless, I must say I didn’t experience that life.
I recall those days your grandfather would force me to attend school.
Those days I would get rained on and expose myself to autumn cold
And summer heat.
Those nights I would deny myself the want of sleep.
The nights I would dedicate myself to the study of mathematics
And the Theory of Everything.
I felt the chill breeze of the North Atlantic digging into my veins.
My feet would get buried in the snow hills formed along the side way
In a boisterous winter evenings.
All I could hear every morning at the bus stop
Was the voice of the Metro Newspaper bloke.
Announcing “Metro! Metro! ”
And the enchanting sound of beautiful Christian ladies wishing every passer-by
“Merry Christmas! ”
However, I do not regret those days.
Neither the nights when I wanted to sleep the most.
I enjoyed a little of my life when I was youth
I knew I had a mission
I didn’t study for my own sake.
I went to school to steal knowledge
For the betterment of my next generation.
My dearest children, I must say this.
“We don’t learn for us,
We do it for others.
And we must make every move simpler and easier for them.
Go learn and sweep knowledge as if you were gonna' die the day following.”
Heavens shower you with blessings my dearest, meritorious children.
Your gentle and loving father.
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