Don't anyone on this flatter
Nor leave the matter to Martha.
To her it might mean 'No matter'
While it's one that could things batter.
Long-built relationships scatter,
When challenged lips simply mutter
Once clean lives in foulest gutter,
Quiet room source of loud clatter.
Each time, I awake this matter,
Fears of waiting ruin get fatter:
I glimpse feet and hear their patter.
As they inch closer, blood-spatter
Soon, they shall flood matters channel
To the formed five-man panel:
East Town's urgent need of good spade
That shall into big waters wade
And arrange useful bridge,
As one drowns and next is the fridge.
East's Generator to suck flood
Like mosquitoes would sleepers' blood
No Government's fast attention,
A sad picture's odd retention
Yes, pavements, too, at the junctions
Waters there need interruptions...
East's flood zones to face big tunnels
Or if you wish Trillion funnels
You matter to me.
I love you brother
More than anything.
I love you for
Who you are.
I love your heart,
Cause it's kind.
And when you fall
I will lift you up.
When your light goes out.
I'll give you mine.
Till you find your light again.
Till your okay again.
I will sit with you
In the darkness.
And be there as your friend.
Cause I do care
More than anything.
Your my brother
And I love you.
I was waken up by the chickens with their kwukwukwu sound.
I looked through the window and smiled to myself, the weather was beautiful.
As I was looking I saw some men standing next to my neighbours house.
They were standing in a form of a circle with their heads looking down.
I was disturbed by a knock on my door.
Three women walked in and sadness was written all over their faces.
"Your brother was shot last night." They said.
My voice failed me.
"Ha..have they taken him to hos..pital?" I asked with my shivering voice.
"He is dead."
I couldn't say anything, I became numb.
I gave out a loud sad cry.
My cries echoed around the environment, with sirens as my instruments to my sad song.
Words replayed on my mind "He is dead...He is dead."
What an experience?
So monological your
days were,
so hypercritical was
your then,
so hypocritical was
your pains, were
when,
very analogical was
your sorrow went,
in moan and swone
your definition was
sent.
your name and your
fame had no meaning
but a shame meant,
you had no happiness
except the ones you
usually rent most
times in torrent.
Amazing speaks of
your unfathom
testimony,
in it time killing made
your success a snap
amp.
YESTERDAY IS A
STORY WORKOUT THE
UNWRITTEN HISTORY!
Even in your darkest hour
Dig deep
And rediscover all that makes
You so so special...
You matter to me.
Let me in again,
Open your arms and heart
Remember the way it was and
Can be again...trust yourself
To love again.
I am waiting for your
New sunrise
When you open your eyes and heart and
Remember, your illness is not the end.
Turn around,
Love's waiting.
Cynthia
One day you came to me
Does it matter to you if I come by to talk?
No, my friend, please come, we'll go for a walk
We shared ideas and we shared dreams
It was the best of times so it seemed
One day you came to me
Does it matter to you if I'm gay or straight?
No, my friend, be happy and celebrate!
I want you to be proud and stand tall
Just be true to yourself above it all
One day you came to me
Does it matter to you that I'm ill?
No, my friend, I'll stay with you still
I prayed to God for His goodwill
Bless him; give him strength to climb over this hill
One day you came to me
Does it matter to you that I'm now dying?
No, my friend, if you don't mind if I stay with you crying?
Death will never break our bond apart
I love you, you'll always be in my heart.