Counting down the days down this year,
learned quite a few but more than ever.
Christmas has passed by the door,
thinking about the present, but not the ones on the floor.
Since long I've already missed my homeland,
but I can't retreat with nothing on my hands.
So you think you know "life",
truth is all we ever knew was "survive".
Under this cold, endless rain,
who cares enough to see the pain?
I nearly thought that everybody was crying,
but I can't be sure if it wasn't just the skies, pouring.
As I grow wiser and my views widen,
all my sorrow will no longer be a burden.
Yet I can't write like last time,
when nothing comes to mind,
the poet broke the rhyme,
and let the letters unbind.