Cold wind drapes over the city.
Fierce drops of water drizzle onto the cemented floor.
The sound of sirens echoes through,
as the "once-safe" shelter turns a mellow rainy night
into a bloody mishap.
₱96 million. Just six people.
The numbers look small.
At first glance, the ratio doesn’t seem so bad.
But in context—
do millions outweigh the blood borne by six individuals,
and possibly more?
₱96 million,
Yet a gust of wind fractured it through its core.
The high roof, once proud, now one with the stage,
Kisses the floor.
This roof—
Was it built to shelter from sun and rain,
or to cover the rotten hands within?
Blame the weather.
Blame the rain.
Blame the wind.
But no storm takes away from many.
No gust destroys to feed a gluttony for money.
Hidden coins in hand.
Secret agendas behind projects.
They blame nature,
while their greed reeks.
The shade has collapsed,
so has their cover to gain trust.
When the people couldn’t see,
the weather took it upon itself
to expose the flood, the corrupted sea.
via Juliana Marie Vanesa Recierdo, PR Staff
Graphics by John Mark Cuz, Artist
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