The day i came and went
For a while, I have been gone,
Not so much for I left my poetry in my stead,
So they read, so they remember...
Yet here I am, alive yet dead.
They look at me with eyes,
Eyes that made mine cry,
No hugs, no hellos, or a faint gladness--
For I am here, alive yet dead.
The house I lived in, now lives another,
neither a friend nor a brother,
A man, they said, had no home to live in.
For I am here, alive yet dead.
The girl in my poems,
Married to another who made her feel
in many ways, all the seasons at once,
Living the life I prayed for in my sonnets.
For I am here, alive yet dead.
There is a sting in my heart
It is silent, yet it plays a noble part
and the dark shades around my eyes
The eyes that have seen so many die
And in the end, they would cry.
What now?
Now there is a darkness nigh
Slowly engulfing me, swallowing me
Taking with me my poems and my dreams
The life I wanted, the family that had hoped
The war that had come, and the lives that went by
including that which was mine.
They look at me with eyes
Eyes that made mine cry
No hugs, no hellos, and no signs of warm gladness
For I am here, alive yet dead.
Copyright © Raynolds Moseamedi | Year Posted 2025
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