i've seen this picture of you
on that far corner of the world

land of snow and you are inside that very thick
winter clothes

there is that smile in your face
and i am taking a closer look

it is sour.

i know what sour is. I've been one for forty years
wearing that

sour smile, and i have many reasons why a smile must be sour
for forty years

the reasons are sour
very sour

beyond those tastes of a hundred green lemons

or a green mango with some disturbing gums on its mouth

i burned all my pictures in college
except those when i was yet a boy beside my mama and our white dog

i was in grade one and i did not like school and mama forced me into it

i was selling chocolates and i ate them all and mama was mad at me and beat me with a stick

papa did not like me reading books as he does not know how to read

i climb trees and hide on the leaves and read stories
in our dialect and draw some pictures of women without their dresses on

you see i still have this picture of myself riding a carabao and hauling some wood and coconut palms

i take a close look of my own smile, It is very sour
and it tastes like yours, but perhaps mine is the worst

but i am happy now, i know how to suppress sour smiles, i know how to manage and project myself

i smile like a cow now, and laugh like a horse
because all of them are dead.

RIC S. BASTASA

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-unhappy-childhood-of-this-man-who-names-himself-i/