Prompt 7 (Poetry Marathon)

“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



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