Great people never go…

You are the greatest…

Everyday I can see him
After I woke up in sudden whim
Papa always tells me a day
It’s time to go and gather hay.

Papa (God) our Father, how can we make more love?

A poverty-stricken mother and her son are locked in a struggle to survive after the demise of the breadwinner:husband and father.

Alternate Ending to The Book Thief.

Memories of my father.

A Son’s Poem For His Father.

A short poem originally written in our native Waray language translated to English.

To You.