I wrote this poem in May 2003, a week after Bessie Mae Guirindola, Richilda Altarejos, Cecile Caguiat-Trinidad, Anna Santos-Batilo and I got stranded in Mindoro Island because of bad weather.
(I wonder how you do it everyday...
spreading your plastic, newspapers, cartons, rags
on the cold, hard, dirty cemented floor
then lie as if you were retiring your tired body
on a soft, comfortable, warm bed
and dream dreams that might never come true.
I wonder how you bear it everyday
curling yourself in a tight bundle
or haggling close to your fellow itinerant
or just try to keep yourself warm
with the filthy garments that clothe your chilled body
and still have that radiant smile on your lips
that could warm any stranger's heart.
I wonder how you live everyday...
eating from leftovers thrown in trash bins
or begging for a few loose change
which you will later on use to buy yourself
a cup of coffee, a piece of bread, or a portion of solvent
to tame your monstrous hunger
and to keep your stomach from aching.
I wonder how you go on everyday...
living each date on a day-to-day basis
wandering in the streets with nary-a-care
about your safety, your health, or your future
your laughter drowned by the noise made by passing cars
and you are not even scared
if you are stranded in a sorry state forever...
your imaginings might not come true
your prayers might not reach the heavens
and your wishes might not get granted.)
Thank God, I was just a stranded tourist.