“Season Of You”
Once we met, during old summer ride
Just two young and old sober mind.
Banana cue with halo-halo as the treat,
As we walk home as we speak.
Your dream was to become a soldier.
An old lonely profession.
You said; “One day, I’ll fight for freedom.”
But it seems like freedom killed your mom.
Summer is long gone, just as you do.
I even wonder if you read those emails I sent you.
You’re in a lone place with a crowd misplaced.
You left me through the rain of disgrace.
The rain was hard, it blocks as you speak,
My voice was breaking, a little weak.
A scary sound was heard to blast.
Later that year, I received your ash.
(C) M. E. Flores