Sundays
There are people who make me wait for Sunday to come. Some little angel
to hug. Some little brainy to ask ‘how are you doing at school?’ Some
little bear to say ‘I love you’ to. And someone to see from afar…
someone that I’d love to pass by and stare at with my imaginary eyes
that kinda grow on my back lately… someone that I know only by name.
And
then, there are those that appear out of nowhere, not needing any
Sunday to say me ‘hello’, or throw a smile that says ‘hi’. They’re
there by divine appointments… or perhaps, purely coincidental.
So by any chance, I hope you read this.
To
him that bumps into me every now and then, I miss bumping into you. To
him who’s been holding back a ‘hello’, you might have had me just at
‘hi’. To him that makes me feel admired, you don’t know how much I look
up to you. And to a few that shower me with love, I’m sorry if your
warmth falls on my icy cold reaction… I’ve got a lot to learn from
you.
I’ll be waiting for another Sunday.
