i've seen this picture of you <br />on that far corner of the world <br /> <br />land of snow and you are inside that very thick <br />winter clothes <br /> <br />there is that smile in your face <br />and i am taking a closer look <br /> <br />it is sour. <br /> <br />i know what sour is. I've been one for forty years <br />wearing that <br /> <br />sour smile, and i have many reasons why a smile must be sour <br />for forty years <br /> <br />the reasons are sour <br />very sour <br /> <br />beyond those tastes of a hundred green lemons <br /> <br />or a green mango with some disturbing gums on its mouth <br /> <br />i burned all my pictures in college <br />except those when i was yet a boy beside my mama and our white dog <br /> <br />i was in grade one and i did not like school and mama forced me into it <br /> <br />i was selling chocolates and i ate them all and mama was mad at me and beat me with a stick <br /> <br />papa did not like me reading books as he does not know how to read <br /> <br />i climb trees and hide on the leaves and read stories <br />in our dialect and draw some pictures of women without their dresses on <br /> <br />you see i still have this picture of myself riding a carabao and hauling some wood and coconut palms <br /> <br />i take a close look of my own smile, It is very sour <br />and it tastes like yours, but perhaps mine is the worst <br /> <br />but i am happy now, i know how to suppress sour smiles, i know how to manage and project myself <br /> <br />i smile like a cow now, and laugh like a horse <br />because all of them are dead.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-unhappy-childhood-of-this-man-who-names-himself-i/
