Summer
The air thick with steam, bathed in brilliant sunlight.
I’ll meet you in that first summer,
when the noonday light softly brushes your face—
when you cook for me, and I for you,
in the warmth of our little kitchen, love.
Twenty years
I gave you my life, my love,
my unwavering devotion.
Twenty hours
held close within my arms,
and you whispered,
“Am I your wife… or your cook?”
Twenty seconds
to pause, to breathe.
And then I answered,
“My cook.”
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Memory
Of mother, father, brother, and sister,
of all who bore the weight of suffering
beneath the shadow of the dictatorship.
Peace
For them, for us, for our children yet to come.
For those we fight for,
building bridges toward a better tomorrow.
Justice
To those corrupted soldiers,
their colonels, and their generals—
to those who kidnapped, tortured, and silenced.
Let the echoes of their crimes resound,
so one day, we can stand and vow:
“Never Again.”
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
Frank could hear it,
Big Bob’s voice echoing his name.
The crowd erupted—applause, cheers,
a symphony of praise swelling for him.
He felt a flicker of joy,
yet it mingled with the weight of regret.
He longed to step forward,
to bask in their admiration,
to be celebrated for the good he’d done for education,
despite the shadows of his mistakes.
So, Frank rose.
He left his cell,
passed through the cold embrace of the prison gates,
and made his way toward the stage.
There, beneath the spotlight,
before the ovation that thundered for him,
Frank stood—and smiled.
This review may contain spoilers. I can handle the truth.
I say, “why did you take a picture of me?”
You say, “I saw you’re lonely, in grief, or wounded.”
I say, “did I give you permission?”
You say, “I never ask permission, because timing is never right.”
And you say, “why did you commit suicide, why? There’s a lot more out there for you.”
I say, “I don’t know, but I feel like I don’t have an ending, it’s meaningless. I’m just a ghost.”
You say, “wanna see the…
