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If Tomorrow Comes














If today, there are things that I do,
And tomorrow you won’t see me doing so,
Do not wonder nor perceive any fear,
For sometimes there are systems we need to alter.

If tomorrow you won’t see me smiling,
Don’t ever think that I’m sad.
If tomorrow you won’t hear me laughing,
Don’t ever think that I’m mad.

If tomorrow you would see me frowning,
Perhaps there is something in my mind.
If tomorrow you would see me departing,
Don’t ever think that I’m leaving you behind.

I may be gone tomorrow but fleeting,
And meet you again in the right place and time.
When tomorrow becomes yesterday parting,
We’ll look forward to a new season and clime.

If the new season becomes our today,
Perhaps, ‘tis the time that I longed and pray.
But, if I could only restrain the moving time,
I will rend tomorrow’s leaf so it won’t come.

The Dark Bay















In the morning when the sun rises,
I walk along the bay with no surprises,
Watching the water full of garbage,
There also float some dead seaweeds.

The tiny waves on the dark sea,
It scintillates no more and so gloomy,
The different objects decorating the water,
That keeps it away from being clear.

Neither crabs nor fish are visible,
Yet, fishing rods are held by some people,
The dark water is so uninviting,
Yet, I see children swimming and enjoying.

The load of trash in the historic bay,
Stained and ruined its natural scenery,
The place where lovers used to roam,
Gradually, the human caused its doom.

The clear blue water was gone,
And so was the clean and gleaming sand,
The fresh sea breeze in the past,
Now a tarnish smell of oil and rust.

Oh, the once wonderful gift of nature,
A picture of how life is innate and pure,
A place where the beautiful sunset I see,
Now, it's a mirror of man's apathy and cruelty.

Muffled













In a room filled with everything
Plugging the four cornered walls
A chattering mouth is wide open
No one cares, it’s a soundless noise
And the mouth is muffled.

The voice of a solitary soul
Reverberates from ceiling to floor
But nothing is perceived by the ear
Not anyone heard anything
And the voice is muffled.

The cry caused by injustice
Echoed in the four cornered walls
The probe for equitableness
Swiftly passed from the body’s senses
And the cry is muffled.

The shout and weep of the oppressed
Swept by society’s constant change
The firm belief in every promise
Promises that never been fulfilled
And the shout is muffled.

The shackled life seeking for freedom
Freedom from the mortifying eyes
The discriminating eyes of many
In the room, the feeble has no place
And everything is muffled.