Cynthia Buhain-baello Poems

Oh what pain consumes our hearts!
Gnawing fears and despondency,
With all jobs lost, income departs,
And the homeless dwell in famined economy.
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MY BROTHER ROBERT
February 25,2009
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In my country there's a frightening story
Called the white lady of Balete Drive
And though the witnesses there have been many
The story is a legend that's still alive.
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All men were created to be free
But some have chosen another way
Life choices were made into slavery
That ebbed their humanity away.
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I sank in my quicksand life of confusion,
Had knowledge and learning, had a degree,
Engulfed in theology and false religion
But I did not have spiritual eyes that see.
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A chicken does not lay a chick,
It lays an egg.
A cartooned heart can never beat
Though it is red.
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Am I lucky I have you?
Yes, you keep saying so,
Repetition doesn't make it true
And that is what I know.
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Shall we all go like phantoms in the night?
Drifting shadows, hollow mists of reasons vague?

Defeat and sorrow, these we have in sight
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Strange that we should feel this way
And yet it goes on
Like flowing streams
In endless days
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What we feed to the children
In words, actions, and example
Will later form them in the end
Into better or bitter people.
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