During the course of typhoon Mangkhut’s destruction, I wrote this poem depicting my thoughts during this period. I thought this poem was a lot better than my first one, as I strayed from rhyming every sentences. I think this upped the ante because it doesn’t read like a childish folksong.
Mangosteen, a fruit bursting with sweet flesh
Who knew the destruction it could cause?
The wind’s whistling and heavy rain stirred
me to life.
Who knew a day that ruined hundreds of homes
and injured the innocent
was the best night of sleep I had in a while.
Ten hours of peaceful dreaming went from
two days to four.
Before I slept, I felt guilty about the fruit
that wrecked havoc on others,
but my head touched the pillow and my body went still.