Tower of Pisa © 2007
written by Glen Yumang Manese
a.k.a. Filipino American Dream

I’m like a book, to you.
Only opening me, to you.
When all else fails.
Leaning to the Pisa.
Carrying the burden.
Wanting to be the pages.
Until all is yours again.
I’m not a wishing well.
So here’s a kiss, goodbye.
Next time the book, closes.
Turning won’t be so easy.
I’m locking the doors, to you.
There will be no key, to you.

Join your entourage.
Enjoy in their pollution.
All the world, to you.
Not a turn in sight, to you.
No looking back.
Emotions running wild.
Passing the times.
Nothing is skipping.
Not a beat of a dime.
A day doesn’t feel much.
When your high as a kite.
Every minute counts, to you.
Every hour commands, to you.

Washing away all worry.
Hiding nothing.
Indulging is something.
Time just keeps ticking.
Engulfed in the trance, to you.
Claiming all is well, to you.
Allowing the moments.
Pursuing the disappointments.
Months just keep dragging.
Waiting for the next idol.
The one called prince charming.
Here goes one, to you.
There goes another, to you.

Water cleanses everything.
Doing exactly the same.
Talking the blaming game.
Never learning the mistake.
Just so someone is listening.
Another will come.
Definitely younger, to you.
Older doesn’t count, to you.
Like your getting much younger.
By now, you’d think much older.
Knowledge just laughs back.
Pawns just keep coming, to you.
Like bees to a queen, to you.

As they make use of you.
Laying out the nest.
They just keep flying in.
Swarming for a taste.
Getting in.
Getting out.
Just as fast as a fly.
Dotting all their I’s.
Waving high five, to you.
Smiling, to you.
Quickly, turning their back.
A hornet, to you.
A wasp, to you.

Nothing seems right.
Wrong has no meaning.
A value.
Or a definition.
Where is the book?
The one, called my friend.
My leaning Tower of Pisa.
My foundation is crumbling.
My ground is too soft.
I’m locking the door, to you.
There will be no key, to you.
I’m also falling, to you.
One day, you will too.

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