If I Were Happier

i always go back to the places
where i'd been to.

she thinks there is no need to see
a place more than twice

unless there is another reason which
i think she knows too well

i went back to Guimaras with her
the fire burnt her eyes making her blind

to what i once was, the past where i
once thrived, weakened, and made strong again

until i met her and i began to make promises
she is trying to recollect them now

what we really are as of this moment
whether we are the chains or the chained

i look at the old man with nothing in his dwelling
except rugs and a bamboo bed

i could have been him if i did not meet her
and i imagine myself if

and for which i did not dare tell her
...if i were happier.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!