perhaps she had <br />enough <br /> <br />there were men in <br />her life, ah, that is expected <br /> <br />one must be open <br />to something that is neither right or wrong <br /> <br />there was even a priest <br />it is sad <br /> <br />when they begin to pretend <br />that they do not know each other <br /> <br />in Boracay someone judges her <br />but i prefer the idea that there is that realm of <br /> <br />something that is above right or wrong <br />that feeling of extreme joy <br /> <br />when everything becomes, no matter what, <br />becomes a part of the many things <br /> <br />forgiven, <br />they say she won't reach valentine's day <br /> <br />she had her own time of the <br />hearts, she lived a life without regret <br /> <br />she had her suns and moons and stars, <br />she bathed in the same river where we once had all these <br /> <br />today she is dead <br />and the goodness, all the goodness in her must triumph <br /> <br />who are we? we are the mourners <br />and please do not, do not ever say those bad words <br /> <br />please, do not even whisper, <br />we know. <br /> <br />may her soul finally find the peace, and love <br />that eternal affection that only God can give.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/she-is-dead/
