Heavy Blue Bag. Black Dirty street.
But you were there.
Weighty Warm Air. Harsh Sunday World.
But you were there.
And your laughter surpassed every chaotic sound from man and machine.
And your words overshadowed the lingering darkness of my lady fear.
And Manila may downpour cruel realities of
Unspoken war and unanswered plea
Of mortified faith and manic deceptive story
When destination appears
And I’m hell gone
You were my journey
In that jeepney ride home.
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