a boy i know

there is a boy i know,

he wishes he was like the fireworks

that provide amusement.

temporary amusement.

he doesn't care if it only lasts for a span of a minute.

he doesn't care if it only lasts for a second.

he doesn't care.

at least he made other people happy.

at least.

he wishes he was like trash.

trash we throw, trash we don't recycle.

trash we loathe, trash we ignore.

trash.

so that he doesn't have to complain,

that he was trash in the first place.

not a human who gets treated as trash,

but as trash and nothing more.

he wishes he was a stone.

a stone that's hard to break.

bury it, or throw it,

it would remain as it is.

it would not bleed, it would not cry.

it would remain as it is.

just a stone.

at least he wouldn't care if he hurts

or gets hurt.

since he would remain as it is.

just a stone.

he wishes he was a knife.

a symbol of fear, a symbol of power.

dangerous and lethal

he wants to be a knife.

a knife that gets driven through the heart.

at least he knows how it is to be inside someone's heart.

at least he knows how it beats for somebody.

at least he knows.

he wishes he was the latest cellphone model.

the one that we want to have.

the one that we have to have.

the one that we dream to have,

at least for the time being.

he wants to be the center of attention.

he wants to know how it feels.

how it feels to be talked about,

to be sought after,

to be.

he wishes he was imagination.

the faint glimpse of reality.

the one we consult in times of need.

the one we run to when we have had enough.

enough of the harshness of reality.

at least he would know how it feels to be inside the mind of others.

at least he would know our secrets.

our inhibitions, our lies, our truth.

he would provide us the hope of what can be.

without reality.

he wishes he was the tears.

the salty substance.

the ones that trickle down our face.

the ones we let our when we are sad.

so that he could know how it is.

how it is to touch the face of others.

to touch them not just when they are happy,

but when they need him most.

at least he could know.

even if he gets wiped out eventually.

he wishes he was the wind.

the one that comes out of our electric fan.

the one that comes out of the aircon.

the one that comes out of our fan.

so that he could provide us with relief.

fresh air from the hot weather.

from the hot weather.

from the hot weather.

he wishes he was our underwear.

the ones we use to conceal.

the ones we change everyday.

the ones with different colors.

the ones with different styles: thongs, t-backs.

the ones.

at least we are assured,

inspite of the shit.

inspite of the piss.

inspite of the foulness.

inspite of our stench.

he is there for us, to protect.

and to cover.

but then again, these are just wishes.

a far cry from reality.

something that cannot possibly happen.

something that cannot.

but still, he wishes.

he hopes.

he believes.

he wishes.

he is.

that, is the boy i know.

*****

:) a poem i made when i had nothing to do. i like it. heck, i may have disobeyed some of my professor's rules, but i love it just the same. :)