Nostalgia

Cold, pitch-black, and raining,
Strong wind bashing the flowering bush outside my window,
Screeching sound of cars passing by,
Attempting to empty my mind of today’s events is futile

As I lay underneath layers of wool blankets,
This feeling hit me in the gut and gnawed,
Curled myself into a ball, my knees touching my chin,
“Yes……I’m really missing home a lot.”

I miss listening to nothing but the roaring and gushing sounds
Of Sakop and Pikaw waterfalls from my bedroom at night after a heavy rainfall
And waking up to the smell of earth and life,
The mountains, waterfalls, rivers and fields beckon me..

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