She cried, She died inside over and over again, She was trapped in herself
and she had no way of escaping. Taking drugs to dull the mud that's been in her
for years. She's so far away from reality that it's like she is constantly
She has to remind herself what's fictional and what's fact because the
hallucinations wouldn’t let her breath, they’d lie to her every chance she gets.
Turning her mom into a monster not butterflies suddenly this high becomes a
nightmare. One she had been fighting for so long, 16 and still traveling the same
rode as so many younger than her. She didn't listen to all the voices that tried to
tell her what she was missing because truly reality is the thing that makes life
worth living. To her reality was the guy who had raped her constantly when she was
young, Why choose reality when you could live in a dream world where everything had
excuses. Not only could she not recognize the girl who cried constantly in the
mirror but she'd done so many things to herself that even her eyes were a different
It hurt so bad not to remember so she continued to fade until soon it seemed
In an idiotical world where there were always smiles, It wasn't until she got help
that she realized the real world was never always pleasant. It was filled with hate
and lies and pain but that's something real and something she needed to face.
Something she needed to open her eyes to, life would never be cake and she couldn't
have her victory without tasting poison at least once. So when the tears dried and
the wounds healed she signed up for a special thing a thing called GED and she got
I came here with flowers
held gently to my sobbing chest,
to bring them to my dearest;
I have departed from the living,
to come face to face with my ending...
I lay my flowers at this cold tombstone...
engraved with a name too sweet,
and yet so painful to call it out;
the heat in my throbbing veins
could warm it up with a loving wish before dawn;
but who can resurrect someone from death?
This morning is dazzled by an intense sun,
carnations, flags and tombstones
perfectly blend as the swaying pines
offer their breeze and soothing shade towards noon;
why are the noisy larks hiding,
and melancholically sing?
I rushed here to release these tears
and let them roll from these eyes,
like raindrops falling on this very quiet place:
where tranquility is as eternal as Paradise...
I lay my flowers at this cold tombstone,
feeling a presence so known;
others before me have knelt and cried,
not to forget whom they lost and dearly loved...
We drove by her run-down house
with faded green shingles
and boarded-up windows,
a sad feeling overwhelmed us;
many times we helped her
to cut down the thick grass
and in return she gave us
three yellow flowers
as a token of her gratitude...
no one else could have cared more!
"These flowers are for you,darlings,because
you helped me plant them in the soil,
and they've grown to be tall and beautiful
in a garden so tidy and nice!"
she exclaimed in jubilation;
"Remember me by when
I'll reach my home...to dwell
in the presence of the Lord,
and I'll be looking down on you and
pray with all angels to keep you safe and well!'
she gladly said with resignation,
foreseeing what she couldn't explain...
She told us about her sweetheart,
whom she loved indefinetly:
from the moment they met,
to the day he peacefully died:
a lovely and faithful wife
was all he wanted and dreamed;
and their marriage lasted
longer than they expected to be...
to be taken with them,
not being afraid of death!
"This is the grand piano I sed to play
for my husband on his last birthday;
he laid his arms on my shoulders
and sang along with me for hours:
on those snowy nights without moon...
when romance was rekindled with kisses
and the sentimental tunes
took away our winter's blues!"
she murmured with deep regret,
until her light eyes became wet...
The decaying house was put up for sale,
and only these kids have a story to tell
about the nicest person on that block,
who once was the prettiest girl-scout...
who loved us as much as her own children;
but did she deserve to be forgotten and die alone?
And if you wonder what her name was,
she was the kind-hearted Mrs Adams!
Do you believe in the things that you've always known,
Can you understand the things you've been shown.
Is it the visions you see that make you believe,
Or is the feelings you get when you've been deceived.
The pain you feel a never ending ache ,
Tearing your heart and soul from you every day.
Time ticks slowly pounding away at you,
Throbbing heart breaking and there's you can do,
Must I settle for these lost and broken dreams,
Because it has all the signs that what it seems.
How much should a man endure to find his way,
It cant possibly be like this hard for me every day.
There is nothing so frustrating as being so confused,
Especially when you've discovered that you've been used.
I will get through this lonely phase I have no doubts,
But I'm sure there will come a day I'll figure it all out.
Cautiously I walk the path that's been laid before me,
In faith I will continue for I know he will let me see.
Life will be thrown at you in so many different ways,
I will be prepared for these things for the rest of my days.
Broken dreams will be the learning tree for me to grow ,
Living my life with Joy Happiness is what I'll always Know.
Head hung low, I walk the street-
Timid to feel the hangman's loss-
Every step on my blistered feet-
Takes me closer to, the Christian cross-
With every second, my soul does exhaust-
Heat-ridden cheeks from tears I cry-
Hide my eyes my shame is discreet-
Explain to me God, why must I die?
You say the hunger game I did cheat-
I see on that hangman's rope your hands across-
How close I was to starvation beat-
Why must I die for naught but sauce-
On bread instead of my usual moss-
I hope you see my little child cry-
Although to you unjust is a treat-
Hold him God on the day he will die-
With my head hung low, I walk the street-
My family will feel the hangman;s loss-
No more will I walk upon these blistered feet-
Family go, live your life by the Christian Cross-
For my soul is tired, don't let your life exhaust-
My dear sweet loved ones there is no need to cry-
No more reason for you to stand all so discreet-
I am happy at last, on the day that I die-
I will live the rest of my life upon a Christian's Cross-
These murderers relax themselves on their own lie-
In a few short moments I won't feel anymore loss-
I will lift up my head and all so proudly I will die-
Scars Left Behind
As a slave I was a product of the broker,
and a commodity as a result of the purchaser.
Both of them made me to be,
valuable and hunted like honey bee.
Hunting and ambushed done in the village,
killing and plundering had become prestige.
As children and women when left died,
I was taken with others and then caravanned.
The Chief and Mtemi had war waged,
For Guns and Cloths were then paid.
The Banyans of India paid the capital,
Whilst Arab of Oman set the arrival.
Some servant some prisoners all were slaved,
With Ivory on shoulders but all day walked.
From Katanga and Malavi to coastal wealthy,
Bagamoyo and Kilwa we laid our sympathy.
Hundred and million were shipped forever,
The Arabs and Whites snatched our mother.
And slavery life had became our song,
Plantation and domestication had been our belonging.
Some died some survived with loosing hearts,
A misery generation maintained the scars.
In the neighboring land with pain results,
As was racist, hardworking with broken hearts.
LUCAS ALEX MKUDE poem.
I just don’t want to be alone
I don’t want to be free
I cannot be without you
But all that’s left is me
I lie here in the darkness
I scream, I shout, I cry
But no one seems to hear me
As I pray, I pray to die
There is no daylight in my world
No sun, no moon, no glow
No smiles or laughter; only tears
Just tears, sad tears that flow
I put my hands together
I pray to God above
To take me from this lonely place
And to the man I love
But in the deafening silence
I know I face defeat
I know I'm still alone, because
My broken heart still beats
He took you from my loving arms
And walked you through His door
You belong to Him now
You belong to me no more
I know I live on borrowed time
I know it won’t be long
Before I'm in your arms again
The place where I belong
And I will keep on praying
Until he hears my plea
To take me through the gates of Heaven
And give you back to me...
Oh,what a hectic month
Oh what a month it’s been
Two lots of relies came
Over from the old country
It’s been a frantic game
I’m not used to all this stuff
But I’m glad it all took place
Although it was real hectic
No frown did crease my face.
One trip to Margaret River
Wow! This, it was a blast
We toured those rich surroundings
Till we went home at last
Then the darned flue knocked me down
And I spent some time in bed
And then I put my back out
As I banged my bloody head.
It seemed that I was on the mend
But my computer shat itself
I lost both poems, and photos
They’re the sum of all my wealth
Thank God I got the poems back
Alas, but not the photos
I guess I lost them, all of them
But this is how it goes
It’s been some heavy karma
That’s all that I can say
But now that it’s all over
I feel real fine today
So it’s back to meditation
And working on my soul
It’s time to get some relaxation
And once more feeling whole
23 October 2013 @1450hrs.
Sad girl rising
Let me tell you about this girl I know
My cousin, this girl be
Her life has been so very sad
But how wonderful is she
She was a wild child, till she married
And had her first born child
When she found out that his brain was damaged
It really drove her wild.
She took the Doctor through the courts
Then fought for ten long years
To get the money she deserved
And she cried so many tears
She gained a million pound at last
To help her with the lad
And yet the damage it was done
And it really drove her mad.
Her and her hubby cared for he
And gave their lives to him
It was a twenty four, seven job
But at times it got real grim
She would do just anything
To make his life more sweet
But when she got that Parkinson’s
She was close on to defeat
But no, she struggled with the odds
And though it’s ten years on
Never does this girl give up
When all her hope seems gone
She smiles, and carries on with courage
Like I’ve never seen before
She’s something kind of wonderful
She’s a hero, that’s for sure.
30 July 2o13 @ 1043hrs.
She worry’s so much
She worries in case he’ll leave her
In her crazy kind of mind
Old memories they haunt her
And now they’ve made her blind
She does not see reality
She’s living in a dream
She’s built herself a nightmare
It’s just the way it seems.
She doesn’t see him laughing
And singing all the time
And how he is so loveable
And writes her lovely rhymes
How he cares so much when she is down
She never see those things
She sees the horror in her mind
That her thoughts so often bring.
When will she ever see him?
The way he really is
He’s wrote five thousand poems for her
All filled with loves sweet bliss
But is it not too late for her
When she lives back in the past
The damage done by foolish acts
It be so very vast
23 July 2013 @ 1250hrs