Gene Boyd was buried on my birthday, but I didn't know about his burial until yesterday, when my father told me about it. Anyway, the night before my birthday, I couldn't sleep, so I started writing this poem. I actually started writing a poem with this title, also about sunsets, early last year, but I couldn't finish it. It was gene boyd's death that showed me how it should end. Last night, I couldn't sleep again, I had this weird, weird heavy feeling I couldn't describe. So I decided I wouldn't sleep till I finished this. I slept at 3 am. I'm sure so many have written about him the past week. I only really got to talk to him when we were on the streets during kadayawan , and I was even planning to meet up with him when I go home for Christmas. But that’s the tragedy of life, you never know when the last time you see a person is the last time forever. I’m still disturbed by what happened so I can only imagine what people who spent more time with hi...