With Too Much Freedom (For Jun A) Poem by RIC BASTASA

perhaps i must write about you,
lonely guy, alone in your house
somewhere in Bohol, did you measure
your day with nothing to do?
it is hard, and life becomes harder
when there is so much freedom and there
is nothing to be done.

perhaps i must remember you, just once,
before you finally open the door of death
and lock it yourself, did you really miss
how is it to bear a son and live with a
wife who knows to embroider your name in
your white shirt? at this age, when everyone
leaves, what more should be done?
except perhaps to wait for death and if
it does not come to fetch you, you
complain, you protest why you are not
treated earlier and just like the rest
who pain no more.