the twang of your
english
humiliates you
but i
ignore it
i am more
interested in you
now than
what you say
or can
possibly do to
me.
so we walk that
old boulevard
the sea is calm
and there are no
vendors, joggers,
beggars
and sweet twee-tums
it is noon
and i compromised
with a conversation
you are going
to surprise with
a wedding
invitation from you
and your dad
surely will
be happy
you are a grown-up
man and you
have many things to
still prove
you returned
to your house
and i am left
here watching
the sun set
in Dumaguete
i am sad
you are bound
to repeat
what i went through
and i am pretty sure
that i would
not like it,
i hope you
do.
good luck, nephew
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem