MEASURES NEW WORLD Soon the nights of bottomless coffee would be over And the deadlines they have been setting would find death. The papers we have been cursing, soon, would no longer matter And we would not even bother about the grades we have made. Soon we would all get tired of our seemingly endless ranting About the subject requirements that we are all sick and tired of Because soon, the pile of school works would all be gone And about them, we would just have to move on. And as we let go of this stage of our lives, we would embrace A kind of life we have all been so excited about. But what we miss is the real part weâ€™ve failed to see: The real world is not really better; only more dangerous.
You are miles awayâ€“ say the numbers marking the distance between one point and another, opposite to each other. But the heart knows no numbers and love, it will never learn the measures of length. For feelings do not lie on spaces in between the frozen lines on rulers, metersticks, and whatever they use to measure the length of things they can touch but never touch them.
BY MINA DEOCAREZA
CRISIS IN LOSS How do you measure the weight of a loss? Does it depend on the amount of tears you cry? Do I have to turn into a river and soon overflow, merge with the ocean with waves that kiss the shore? And if tears are the real gauge, please forgive me For I could not cry anymore. I have been taught: Liquid overflows when solid is dropped into the glass. Sadly, I do not have those that I can touch or hold: No tangible things to remind me of you, day or night; Besides, this house I am in was never your home. Ergo, nothing heavy to make the liquid rise and escape. Deprived, even with gas-like apparitions I call memories.
Triple cover with The Strangeness, RomCom and Low Leaf. Long live OPM!