You have everything to give.
And all I could offer is
What is left of me.
You created the story
Of the waiting boy
And I wrote it.
About so many chances that came.
And I chose to shrugged it.
Until a thought of it.
Was it supposed to be a gift?
So many times you give.
But I turned it down.
Turned it down again.
Hesitations because I am hesitant.
Hesitant because I wasn't brave.
I wasn't brave to trust.
Until one day while walking after work.
On a crowded streets we used to tread.
On that old gasoline station
The old chance came again.
As what I always do.
I shrugged it off again.
Until after a block
I turn around running as fast as I can.
I ran wishing the chance was still there.
I ran feeling like I am losing you again.
I ran just to know you are no longer there.
Chances, chances, chances,
Came and went.
Until the last never did happen.
Do you know how it's like
To finally have the courage
But it is already late.
Do you know how it's like
To finally have the guts
But your guts came too late.
I want to say it...
Even if it is too late.
I wanted you to hear it...
Even if it is already too late.
I want you to say it on my face...
Even if it is too late.
I wanted to hear it...
Even if it is already too late.
Why can't we say it?
When it's too late.
We both want to hear it.
Maybe it is never too late.
Footnotes:
Manuel L. Quezon was the first president of the Philippines and the face of the twenty peso bill that reminded me of stories about chances and how I shrugged them off until I finally got the guts but my guts came too late. Hence, the title.