Under The Old Meranti Poem by fera nugroho

under the old meranti*
a young boy sat, weary
as his tears thicken to sorrow
he casted a quest of tomorrow

my dad took my girl
my mom slept with her dad
pride no longer lingered
i couldn't even see what's near
so, why should this ragged soul be here?

why not hang it on the neck of the old meranti?
to decorate the cold gray grave
to be written on the dead sign
of the dark peaceful coffin
the place where i could hide
from the light and from what might

old meranti, bow to me now
for i need to hurry
before my neighbors wake and see
all that happened in me
and throwing stones
judging me
for being poorly,
me...


*meranti= tropical tree, strong and big.