STRANGERS

I wrote this poem many years ago while on 'moody mode'. Although the city I'm in may not necessarily be near-perfect, I still like it. Davao is dubbed our country's most livable city. I live south of it and sometimes when I get silly thought of going back in time and changing things, I get weird stating that I'd change the place where I grew up, but still preferably anywhere within this city.

I strolled by the city
I was with cold concrete
There were strangers and they were
fragments of those whom I met

But I saw strangers
their shadows without faces
with voices without words
walking in paths nobody sees

I looked at my shadow
neither do I see my face
my words were mute; I was alone
the path does not fill numbers

Perhaps in a world of strangers
crude gifts are accepted by frail hands
the foolish laugh and fall like drying leaves
and one who knows will be a friend