Twigs are thin and easy to break
But once broken you'll know it's too late
You can’t fix it so don't try I’m fine so don’t cry you can't fix me
I've been broken, my hearts been stolen.
Then stomped on and thrown away.
Some pieces are lost. Others are gone
I’m numb inside. It's all pretend.
Sometimes I wish It all would end.
Don't shed your tears for me. Don't say goodbye
Sometimes I wish I could fly
Fly away from every thing fly from earth fly from pain from all the hurt
Go to heaven And feel no pain
See golden gates And then I pray
To not wake when I sleep
For him to take the pain and not me
But god never answered the prayers I cried
So the devil did and I tried to take my life
It didn't work and pained me to no end
I tried to better myself but it never worked until today
Now all my pain has gone away There's still an ache
Just not as strong. The holes in my heart are filled with love
I realized I don't need a boy to love and that family was always enough
They drift in plain sight,
Faces pale beneath streetlights,
Hands empty, yet reaching
For a life they left behind.
They stand in line at the coffee shop,
Smile at the cashier,
Wave to a friend—
And vanish from memory the moment you look away.
Their laughter slips through cracks in the sidewalk,
A whisper in the hum of passing cars.
No shadow betrays them, no echo marks their step,
Yet something tugs at the corner of your mind:
A familiarity you cannot place.
They ride the subway at rush hour,
Sit beside you in silence,
Listen to your conversation,
And fold back into the crowd,
Unseen, unfelt, unforgotten by none who notice.
Sometimes, late at night,
When the world is soft and still,
You feel them brush past your arm,
And wonder if the warmth of life
Was ever really yours alone.
The dead walk among us unnoticed.
Look closer. They are there.
A pretty woman with a yellow flower bouquet in hand,
Walks down the street in light drizzle,
Her pretty hat covers her flowing blond hair lightly,
The flowing white skirt over dancing legs creates beauty.
A handsome man walks by her,
Immersed in the beauty of streetlights and drizzle,
He hardly notices the pretty woman go past him,
May be the lady’s bouquet was not meant for him.
The street is enchanted with yellow moon and flying birds,
May be this magic will find the man of lady’s dream.
Children perceive the cries of their mother,
Mother unsupportive for the father’s noiseless soreness,
Soreness forgotten under the heaviness of days,
Days that build futures they never admire,
Admiration to mother’s effort, not to dad’s hands that strain.
Strain symbols his forehead, but silence skins the reality,
Reality ineffable by lips that profile their vision,
Vision of love biased, bitter and fictitious,
Fictitious the hate women hold since tender youth.
Youth forgets the man, who walked unaided,
Unaided in storms to shield his children from the cold,
Cold are hearts that never have been told,
Told of the shadow where love was strewed.
Poem by Mugisho N.
It was a bright day—
I was walking down the street
when I saw him.
Headphones on,
a smile resting easy on his face—
as if even the smile
was drawn to him.
He walked past me
like I wasn’t there.
But I froze,
turned back…
and giggled.
In colors he bloomed, with a big red nose,
He chose the job where laughter grows.
There he stood in rounded boots,
With a grin of mischief and playful hoots.
Dressed like a child, his costume loose,
A floppy hat, a bright jumpsuit.
Then came the rain--it cleared the crowd,
While the magician watched, silent and proud.
And through the downpour, something broke through
A glimpse of the man, not masked, but true.
His smile turned down, a burdened frown,
Grief wrapped tight in his circus gown.
He vanished with no tear, no trace,
Just silence held in a painted face.
He ends his shift, no cheers, no song,
As a joker he smiled, as a joker he belonged
As thorns behind roses
An unnoticed pain behind every cute thing
A generalised fact
Salubrious slades
With scarlet splotches due to savagery
An organized act
Clouds often go unnoticed, but they are so much like us,
soft and distant travelers, floating through a sky full of unknown thoughts,
meeting like strangers, carried by the same wind of chance,
staying for a while, then quietly parting, without promises or storms.
They do not ask the sky to stop, nor beg the sun to linger longer,
even in their parting, they shine for a moment, then continue to move anyway,
perhaps alone, but never lonely, carrying rain and light in their souls,
changing shape but never losing the grace that defines them.
And maybe that's all we need—to move, to meet,
to let go and rise again, for life is a balance to be learned,
to be strong while feeling fragile, to hold heavy thoughts like dark clouds,
to find peace in solitude and yet rise, constant and sure, regardless of the sky.
Because life means learning to shine even in moments of parting,
to embrace fragility and maintain the elegance of change within you,
to float through the winds of countless dreams and not get lost in the tumult,
to find your path, to find your peace, and to rise, no matter what the sky may bring.
Midst a dirty pond,
Pink lilies bloom unnoticed
I love this place now.
Not happy anymore just feeling down
Never wearing a smile just a constant frown.
No one knocks the door or calls me on the phone
I’m sad and invisible being on my own.
All my life is getting up in the morning then going back to bed
Ho what a sad existence I might as well be dead.
When I was young I had fun staying out with my mate
Partying and have fun staying out late.
That was long ago and years flown so fast
The happiness I once had was never meant to last.
in my secluded house I will waste my life away
Alone and unnoticed is the way I will stay
Nothing seemed peculiar or out of place.
Just another day at her workspace.
Bright and early at 7 am, she clocked in.
It was
Friday, a time for some productive work before the weekend.
She had plans to work and return home.
But angels had other plans for Ms. Prudhomme.
From her cubicle, she quietly took flight,
Away from the daily grind and futile fight.
For four days, her avatar sat alone,
No more life, no more earth to call home.
For four days, nobody came to see about her.
Maybe there was a phone call, text, or email, but there was nothing after.
Nothing peculiar or out of place,
Just another day at the workspace.
A day in my life
Disappointment came discreet
My cellphone broke down.
we saw through camouflaged intent
our heart’s nonchalance surprised us
we smiled, space flickered in applause
there was no need, life’s but a dream
wherein all that matters is love
Mostly the discarded voice
Who is never noticed
That is never heard
Who is mostly ignored like a lone bird
Always the sidepiece
Never the centre
Usually forgotten
Barely remembered
Heartbroken
Voice cracked
Choices regretted
Face draught
Usually replaceable
never indispensable
Barely needed
Always preceded
Maybe I am selfish
For wanting to be cherished
For wanting to be adored
Wanting to be put before.
sightly
slightly
nightly
tightly
sightly she is, slightly thick of thighs
nightly, hugs herself tightly and cries
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