POETRY

I knew him from different aspects, They said he was a man of many personalities, From the photos ,he was a figure of admiration, From

Windows shattered, broken glass all over the place, A trickle of blood rollIng down my face, Faint sirens heard from afar, My heart pounding hard,

Dangling from the Rope was his lifeless Body, Beside him Lay a note which only a Single Statement read; “I am Sorry.”, Clea shy, Right?

Fate hasn’t been kind, it has stolen all the happiness from my house, the warmth that once was is no more, what’s left is cold,

Growth paramount Environment, I do not chose I tend to believe it’s a gift from above Gift that nourishes my growth A gift that fills

His words grew less by the night, But I could see the questions through his eyes, Could feel his drive to ask, His eyes fixed

An unVacated house, a forced Vacation he wishes For a Black and white View Now all he See’s are the greys, Pointless is his Reality

What if we turn the story around? What if we realize the need to emphasize on the fact that this is the first Environment a

“Being one day at my window all alone So manie strange things happened me to see, As much as it grieve me to think thereon.“Being

Her name was Rose, She was of the Movers Cause she caused Chaos wherever she moved, attention tended to Favour her, she was a walking