When we were young

The night changes so fast, cliche may it sounds
we're getting older.
Listening to old songs makes me shiver
all the fleeting thoughts rhyme in my head. 
I remain nostalgic about the good old days.
The spark that lit' up my hopes when I was younger.
And I knew since then that our hearts never belong to each other.

I had this feeling a long time ago,
to the guy outside the room.
Standing under the rays of the sun punished for being late.
I looked at you, stuttered, and hesitated to ask you a question.
I returned the I.D of my neighbor. 

My sophomore year left me amused.
And I remember it all! 
And here I am reminiscing those remarkable memories.


 Another line was added to my skirt 
 with your blue seal on your shirt. 
I saw you on the stage 
feeling cool with your rocket.
I felt the tension inside the room
staring at you, holding a grip on my pocket.

Senior year came, and there were four lines on my skirt.
I never thought that it would happen.
I just wanted to know you more, 
but I couldn't even look into your eyes.


We changed notebooks, papers, and answers.
Feelings started to overflow and 
I needed to turn it into poems, stories, and letters.
If you could just read it all and hear the beats behind it,
maybe you know me better. 

I remember it all.
How will I forget those emotions that turn into poems?
How will I forget those smiles that turn into motivations?
How will I forget those ordinary moments that turn into precious memories?

Those comfort rooms that are actuallly discomforting,
the crude writings on the wall, 
the fistfights of the coward gangsters,
the FM STATIC era,
the bangs that almost cover our faces,
the Y8 games , plants vs. zombies, and counter-strike
that fascinated and amused us. 
'Til we signed each other uniforms.

Highschool will remain nostalgic,
the aroma of those ordinary yet best moments of my life.
I was the quiet and shy teenager at the last row
while you were in the first row of spotlight.
And all I know that our hearts never belong to each other.
And I wouldn't hope to be, 
'cause you're my inspiration 
not a lover nor a friend,
but still it's worth reminiscing. 













Published by Merrel Ya

A lady who has been pondering her hope into Christ, inhaling His grace, and enjoying the beauty of life. Writing about life, asking God about “kuliglig sa kanyang dibdib.”

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