"February 10: Happy Birthday EJ Tolentino! Happy Birthday Tita Agnes! Happy Birthday to my grandmother! (Wow, dami!)

I'm tired. Just this poem, which caught my eye.
In Flanders Fields
Lieutenant-Colonel John McCrae

In Flanders fields, the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the Dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders fields

Take up our quarrel with the foe;
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die
We hall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Death comes at any time. No matter how beautiful everything is. Can't it come but a moment too late? Can't it come while I live in hate? When will this life finally soar? When I have filed past dark grave's door?
I'm just feeling like shit now. *

(No, I didn't post this poem as an antithesis to the birthdays. Be happy! God has given you another wonderful year! ;) )
"

The clock ticked: 6:32 AM