Rotaract Medium

Scribblings on forearms, solving math and laws, Chided by teachers for our ink-smeared flaws. Yet we walked home with swagger, no shame in the mess, Tattooed with numbers, a scholar's careless finesse. The sun shone bright when our scores were full, Each step a march of triumph, confident and cool. From the bus stop to home, we'd proudly stride, Sharing tales of the day, with laughter as our guide. The noon sun's heat, it never burned deep, For the joy of returning home lulled us to sleep. To Mum, we'd tell our stories, hearts alight, Her warmth shielding us from the weight of the night. Oh, life was beautiful in its old-school ways, In the innocence of those carefree days. By: Reine Preeam

The winter nights ain't dry anymore, For I learned to fall for me A little more. The clouds still cover the sun, The wind is still cold enough, The temperature still goes down, The dogs still howl, The sky still drizzles at night. Often it comes to my mind, Oh, so pretty! For I'm in love with me, Just a little more. Yes, true that, The love is less than What it will be tomorrow, But definitely sweeter Than the dessert I had at supper. The thunders are still so loud; I sometimes still shiver, The weather still so cold, But I don't feel the numbness anymore. True is the saying: The warmth of love Can melt any glacier. So be it. I am my beloved, And my beloved is me. That's what my name is for, My life is all about love, And it's a love story Which revolves around me. ~ Reine Preeam