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I was a year old when my father died, but it feels like I have lived with him until now, as if he wasn't gone for seventeen years. My dad died because of cancer, though I was still very young, I could still remember most of it that I spend time with him, especially when my mom tells me. I could picture the blood running in his nose and the pain he felt. I didn't understand what cancer was before. I thought it's just like fever or cold, but it's worse than any illness, it can take away your life. I thought cancer would leave our life, but it doesn't. When I was in sophomore, my uncle felt nausea and he felt wobbly. He thought that it was just because of over fatigue, so he just it aside, and then it happened again and he started to lose consciousness. When my mom and my aunt took him to the hospital, they found out that he was sick, seriously sick. My aunt's world shattered and ours too. Not him, too. Why in the world did Cancer always target my family? First ...

It was scarlet, Then it was purple. The diamonds hang lonely, The pearls look up sadly. Rain pours dramatically, Sun shines sternly. I look up at the Universe, And see how they lament with me. I flooded the world, And the year soothes me. Months embrace me, And lull me in their arms. Days shower me with kisses, But no one can take away the pain. Oh, pain! I cried at night. Oh, pain! I plea, "go away!" Finally my pleas are heard, But pain leaves a mark. A crack in my Universe, and cannot be fixed.

I don’t know what my future will be because there’s still the present that I have to live in order to build my future, but who in this world does not think of the future, even I do. I am as curious as anybody else what my future will be and there are times that I think that maybe I’ll be a bum, knocking on doors and asking for a penny or something and sometimes I think that I’ll be what I dream of, but I can’t tell if that will happen. I always see myself as in front of the computer, writing something extraordinary and something out of experience with a cup of coffee beside my computer and piles of manuscript that still need some polishing and lots of sticky note posted in my board. I will have eye bags and I will look like a zombie. I don’t have a family yet, because I am so dedicated with what I am doing and I think a family will just intervene with my work. There will be deadlines that I have to meet and I’m starting to get crazy because I don’t know what else to do, but after a...

I am happy, But I end up crying. Broken like a shattered glass, And scattered as pieces of papers. My feelings grew like flowers in the spring, But yours withered like in the fall. A promise of a thousand years, But not a word is kept. What have you done? Why have you forsaken this love? Even if the time pass. Wounds won't still be healed. It is a cliche, I speak of broken love. Let the world fall apart, And mourn with my tragedy.

I got thousand of friends, But I can count them in a hand. I got few foes, But a hand is not enough. Fallible notes come from my friends' lips, And truth they behold. My enemies lend me a shoulder, And never stab me at my back. Friends, they call themselves, But Liars as I call them. Enemies, they admitted, But Friends as I treated. When tears tumble down my cheeks, My foes weep with me. When I am down and cannot stand, My friends walk away. Enemies can be friends, But friends itself, do not trust!

I am blind, For I see no good. I am mute, For I speak no truth. I am deaf, For I hear no right. I am numb, For I feel no joy or sorrow. There's no room for sympathy, Or for pity. I am a heartless creature, For I crash them by my hands. I bring them to their grave, Giving them justice they deserve. I put thorns, So no one can cross. Only I can tell who may pass, For I rule this world. Souls dwell in my home, But not for too long. I am more than Hades, For he's even afraid of me.

I kept on running, And you kept on chasing. It's like a never ending story, And it's not so lovely. I walked half of the way, And ran the rest of the road. It's a nightmare, And I wanted to wake. I heard a gunshot, And then I saw blood on my shirt. "Why?" I asked. But you didn't answer. It's more than a knife, that slashed my tongue. It's more than a whip, That hit my eyes. It's more than anything, And it's killing me. I know that this is my end, And you're already satisfied. Because my death, Will be your happiness.