Oleh: Nayla Basam*
In the cold of night, piercing to the bone,
Memories drift to August 7th, a date well-known.
A tale from three years past,
We, two souls caught in a love storm so vast,
Sharing stories without a thought
Of bitter possibilities that time had brought.
In the darkness of that night,
You came, bringing warmth, chasing away the fright.
Your smile, a light filling my mind’s space,
With a joyful face, you offered me a trace,
A simple carton of milk, once a fleeting breeze,
Now a symbol of sorrow, bringing me to my knees.
In that moment, a smile etched on my face,
Knowing it was your way of expressing love’s grace.
In every step, through joy or despair,
You’d arrive with that carton, showing you care.
But time spoke its truth,
Busyness enveloped, taking away our youth.
Communication faltered, separating our fate;
Everything happened suddenly, far too late.
No goodbyes whispered, no thanks for the past,
As if all our moments were a game meant to be played.
With every sip of that milk, I swallow my sorrow,
Each taste is a reminder of bitter tomorrows.
That empty milk carton, I refuse to discard;
It becomes a story in my diary, a memory scarred.
Preserving the past, a simple art form,
To heal the old wounds, to weather the storm.
Isn’t that so?
*Penulis adalah Siswi SMAN 1 Soppeng