Behind SyloArts

  From me to you: a 36 Years Past - a Poem. By: E.S. Lo my 37th year... I would like to start anew. And I ask this from a numbered few. They are apologies I do extend, To all those I did offend. If I ever broke your heart, Made you cry or fall apart. If my words they left a mark, I am sorry for my part. If I ever kicked your shins, made you bleed or bruised your skin. For somethings I can't recall. I am sorry for them all. If I caused you sadness in any way deepest apologies, is all I can say. If I bullied you or was mean and rude. I apologize for being crude. 36 years of weary thoughts it's enough sadness that it's brought. Time has been said to heal all wounds, it doesn't really, it's only assumed. I've always been taught to bite my tongue, don't speak too much - you may look dumb. Don't laugh too loud, it's unattractive, and as I age that doesn't matter. What really matters is the love we knew. The love we give to many or a few. The love we gr

When I was a little girl living in East Vancouver, BC.  There was a summer where a new boy and his family moved in next door. Since he was new, my dad thought it would be good for me to make new friends and go and play with him - since we were around the same age ( I think he was a year or two younger.) Well this boy's sense "fun" was to kill things like snails, slugs and worms. He would run around the yard and find worms, slugs, and snails to step on, throw on the fence to dry out in the sun, and cut in half. I went with it for a while but I absolutely didn't like watching this potentially psycho child kill things and I eventually stopped playing with him. I think my dad took it as me being anti-social, non-friendly. I took it as, I don't like killing things as much as that boy likes killing things. I don't know if I ever told my dad that - that was reason I stopped playing with him. Maybe I should have.

In elementary school, we had pen pals from Kenya, but my exchange with my pen pal actually continued into high school.  One day my elementary school was able to track us down after moving and had called my dad about letters for me. My pen pals address had always been a school and mine which was once the schools address eventually became my house address. I wrote her back after receiving a letter after so many years, it began again. But eventually we stopped writing again. I don’t know who stopped writing or responding. If she graduated and no longer had a physical address to send mail through or receive, but that was that.  Fast forward years later and it’s late 2017... there is this magical thing now of social media and the internet to connect us. So I google her name, B- (I’m leaving her name out) ... I come across a photo I thought might be her and message the twitter account. No response. And then I come another news article with a photo of a woman I think also might be B- her and