They don't know that I go running home when I fall down.
They don't know who picks me up when no one is around.
I drop my sword and cry for just a while.
'Cause deep inside this armor, the warrior is a child.
I was in my freshman year in college then. It was late in the afternoon and I was about to go to our org's room to get something when an orgmate approached me. She looked distressed, and wanted to tell me something. I was totally surprised, for we weren't really close friends, but I couldn't say no. It seemed urgent.
She was weeping before I noticed it. I tried to listen, but could barely hear the words behind the sobs. Siguro kailangan niya lang talaga ng maiiyakan nun. It was strange, really.
Only now have I come to understand what it felt like.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment