Deep in the forest,
you'd find my cottage by the
lake. Come here, my love!
Its walls are crumbling
down; its windows, already
shattered in pieces
Its roofs, tattered; doors,
broken, but thoughts of you still
linger in this place
We used to live here
—a home we call childhood; we'll
rebuild it someday
(C) F. J. Bayog (2010)
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