Some should think I'd have no reasons to love you,
but your very departure
is my greatest reason of all.
Between the tears of happiness
and the smiles of sorrow
that I could only experience
because of time not spent with you,
I discovered all that I can do.

Without you, I learned how to
see clearly the true sky,
and how to pass the hours by,
so that all along I'd be able to
weave my own path.
I think I even gained some intelligence
after all the problems
I had to solve on my own,
and I learned how to survive being alone.

I became able to break the rusted chains on my feet
so I could fly away
and, even for the most fleeting of moments, be free.
I've especially learned one thing
from your swift withdrawal:
how not to be.

And I realized the true meaning of love.
I taught myself how to keep my head high
to meet life when it shows its face,
and I discovered the uselessness of lies
and the importance of the eyes
when all words have died.
I overcame the stumble of
my own asinine self-impedimenta,
I now know how to persevere
when life is relentless.
And through the writing of seemingly
hundreds of stories,
I can no longer deny all
the wrath and the mourning.
Yes, I already knew
a thousand ways to exist;
without you, I learned
what it is to live.

05/23/2008

Author's Note: This is written for my parents. I admit it might not be very poetic or well-written, but it was maybe only my third or fourth poem, regardless it is most likely the most personally significant poem that I've ever written.

Posted on 01/03/2009
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