The promise of yesterday was fulfilled
in a certain way that is enough to make
one grateful of keeping up every single day,
well, most days at least.
Too much pride I gave up on
those days that are now just a part of a particular cycle,
Too much joy I thought I could contain,
Too much love that is just too overwhelming,
for a heart that is not destined to be owned.
Though I meant every word I said,
swallowing them is not as hard as penetrating one's
humongous ego.
As you flip the leaves that are already dry,
hoping for better days, I smile.
The wind may come with great force next time,
but on that moment, it will be a friend
that would sweep all the dried leaves behind.
And so I flip as well,
while looking back from time to time.
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