Precy Brozas Varilla

Rookie (083088 / Philippines)

The Unspoken Gratitude - Poem by Precy Brozas Varilla

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.
With my little triumphs she delights, I say they're only fitted for tramps.
Often times...
He tells me I'm full of wisdom, I say it won't bring me to any kingdom.
He gladdens with my obedience, I say I only don't want to make any offense.
He tells me I'm one in a million; I say I'm a forgotten soul within a flourishing nation.
With my humor he's funny bone tickles, I say my mind starts too fickle.
Most of the time..
They tell me I'm good a friend, I say like unto a chameleon I need to blend.
They envy my seemingly strong disposition, I say one more blow and I'll lose direction.
They tell me I can make a change, I say only heaven can intervene the world ablaze.
With my jolliness and radiance they laugh, I say someone inside me waits to be unmasked.
Several times...
You tell me I'm a lady extraordinaire; I say I'm a girl with nothing to share.
You appreciate my selflessness; I say I crave for payments falling in cadences.
You tell me I'm a good daughter; I say I know not how to be better.
With warmth you offered your love, I say it can never sweetly fuse with my wrath.
At this moment...
I see her cry.
I wipe her tears but I fail as I try.
I hear him sob.
I reach for him but my hands channel no warmth.
I feel you're hurt.
I console you with all my might but no healing is ignited.
I think they're in deep grief.
I sing to them only realizing my voice's unheard; in the air my calls drift.
Time ticks...
I see them as the cherry blossoms flutter then silently kissed the ground.
I hear them as a flute from an unknown distance start to sound.
I feel them as the late September breeze send shiver to my spine.
I think of them as the ivory-colored clouds and the horizon intertwine.
Time takes another tick.....
I look around; cage in sheer bewilderment is my soul.
Pounding is my heart, I scream but nobody heed my call.
Phantom tears start to erupt, and the hollow universe crumble.
When I suddenly existence has already taken its toll.

Comments about The Unspoken Gratitude by Precy Brozas Varilla

  • Ramesh Rai (4/23/2012 3:38:00 AM)

    it is not now the unspoken, spoken so beautifully (Report) Reply

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Poem Submitted: Saturday, April 21, 2012

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