EDSA Station and the MRT

They piled one upon another, cascading down the stairway
darkly staring into the spaces in front of them.
The frothing sea of frowns and furrowed brows set upon me,
causing consternation and making me feel nervous.
Why do they come here day after day, piling upon each other?
What draws these masses here where individuality disappears?
Sad and sweating caricatures of themselves anywhere else,
with no memory of the humanity they possessed moments ago!
The boxcars await, rolling along the line 50 times a day,
demanding that the passengers demean themselves and submit!

Upon the platform, their indifference sets in as they watch and wait,
the doors open, releasing wave upon wave of silently marching beasts.
Grins and a quickened pace lend evidence to their relief at having
momentarily escaped their fate as prey items in a concrete Serengeti.
Even such obvious signs can't discourage them from this path though,
as they wait for the line to fall and the crackle and yelp of the cattle prod.
They have fresh in mind the sad and sunken eyes of hungry children and
the worried and repetitive fears and doubts of spouses and their own minds.
To do anything less would be a sin, a crime against family and faith.
Does it really matter that there is a better way if we cannot find the path to it?

Walking in Manila Late At Night.

Dark thoughts and a heavy heart had forced me out the door,
to make my feet consume the spirit and help me hurt no more!
But the first I saw, was a feline friend, upon a glass shard wall,
with nary a care or a sideward glance he continued his lustful call!
When next I chanced to see a child, playing upon the street,
and wondered at the day's late hour and how she smiled so sweet!
The heavy heart I had brought along was weighing heavier still,
with all my hope for happier thoughts not responding to my will!
The wind kicked up to stir the ground, a clattering of rubbish,
and looking round I saw the sorrow of the future's children punished!
Eventually, I turned the corner and came back to my neat little row,
Where the scenery is more comfortable and cool breezes blow!
But pain and sorrow are not so easy, that one can lose them to a stroll,
where life is concerned we take what we're given, there is no control!

She Always Has Her Country On.

When she walks into a room, wearing confidence in comfort,
The smirk reveals a mind, as sharp as it is Southern.
Nobody here can deny her, nobody can say she doesn't belong!
Nobody dares to disregard her or thinks to do her wrong!

She never had to be unkind, to get where she wanted to be,
She knew she'd get where she was going, get there eventually.
Nobody is going to stop her now, she stands proudly upon her truth,
away from all the hopeless things, that were attracted to her youth!

She always has her country on, and she wears it so very well,
unconcerned about what others think, she manages to be a belle!
She asks nobody for permission and none would presume to give it,
She always has her country on and it's always a perfect fit!

Life is full of hopeful promises, some come true, but most do not,
it isn't for lack of trying nor the product of some sadistic plot.
For the best-laid plans oft go awry, as if they weren't meant to be,
and find us scrambling for a lesser place, one we never thought we'd see.

On calm country roads and noisy city streets she is perfectly herself,
She never wanted to be anything else or sit on somebodies shelf.
There really isn't much she craves in life, save for comfort and for love,
and she never forgets to say her prayers, to Jesus and to God above!

She always has her country on, and she wears it so very well,
unconcerned about what others think, she still manages to be a belle!
She asks nobody for permission and none would presume to give it,
She always has her country on and it's always a perfect fit!