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The Child

By: v

Graphics by: Ma. Alyssa Therese S. Manalang

Photo by: Mary Lesley A. Beriña

The child in the depths had eyes like gold.

I see through its eyes; I see through its soul.

As if the very fragments that make up its whole

are mere paper hearts for me to unfold.

It dreams of a day so pure and bright.

When all its sorrows disappear right at midnight.

At daybreak, a swan oozing grace and might

spreads its wings through noon to twilight.

It dreams of a day so warm and yellow.

When all of its troubles have all gone mellow

And the thunders of its heart no longer bellow.

Wondering what it's like once it clears the snow.

The sparkling waters are clear, iridescent.

The dreams of the child, blinding, incandescent

Could it, one day, find its contentment?

Could it one day, say life's well spent?

I see the child's soul staring straight into mine.

Sparkling like rays of the sun, dazzling within the brine

It did find contentment, spent well its time.

It did become happy; I know because I am.

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