school

another bell rings,

another day ends,

she's sent to school,

against her will,

the sun may shine,

the flowers abloom,

but there are tear drops,

falling from her eyes.

another tear drop falls,

another smile is lost,

why does she have to live

against her will?

the trees will grow,

the wind will blow,

she takes a breath,

wishing it'll be her last

fear and anger

She hears the creak of the door,

he was back home.

She was ready today,

and he was not.

She has a knife with her,

the type they use to cut fish,

he had nothing,

but a bag with a few bananas.

She comes before him,

fear creeping in.

he smiles at her

and says he's sorry.

She looks at him in wonder,

she didn't smell arrack.

He hadn't drunk today,

he was clean.

She held on to the knife anyway,

and told him dinner was ready.

He, with tears in his eyes,

gives her the parcel.

She looks in and smiles,

“whats this for?”

he apologizes over and over again,

he really is sorry.

She drops the knife and looks at him,

astonished, hopeful.

The day he turned around was the day

she also turned around.

He stopped drinking, stopped beating her

and she stopped being patient, a victim no more.

When love touched his heart,

hate touched hers.

From somewhere, a dog barked,

just then a sudden breeze cooled them.

Was this their new life?

Her fear no more,

his anger no more.

But her thirst for vengeance

taking over his hunger for love.

Things turned around,

and now he lives in fear and

she in deep hate.

one of those topsy turvy poems

making the sky go black and white,

the bright hating lightening strikes,

a little girl, so scared, cries,

afraid of the eerie mice,

you have to play the game nice,

no cheating with the dice,

no matter what the disguise,

to make you cry, life always tries,

so sweet like bee hives,

but sharp like cutting knives,

killing love, evil thrives,

the world is full of cunning lies,

the sun so bright that it fries,

insects, so small in size,

as we sit, living life,

to take over, others try

betrayed

She couldn’t understand why this year,

Santa Claus didn’t visit her

She hadn’t been naughty, but very good

How can her forget her house

Her grandmother tried to explain

But she didn’t understand why

Santa’s reindeer couldn’t find

The small house on the river bank

She knew her parents were in heaven

With her little baby brother

Was heaven close to santa’s home?

She didn’t know where the North Pole was

Year after year, she kept on waiting

Her hope never died

Year after year, the Christmas tree

Had no gifts under it

Her list to Santa kept getting shorter

Until one day she lost all faith

Why be good for a man who,

Had forgotten her so easily

So she hoped for a different man

Who gives naughty girls good gifts

She prayed and hoped

And left her good life in the past

She was gifted a million things

Too happy she was to understand

These were the gifts that took her to hell

Before she was even fully grown

a story of a he and a she

his lips parted and yet he made no sound
she waited, knwoing what he was so nervous about
he couldn't believe it would be like this
she wondered why he chose the school cafeteria
he found this easier, more people, less emotion
she wished he would be quick with his words
he moved his hand on to hers and squeezed
she felt the nervous sweat on her hand
he finally closed his eyes and took a deep breath
she smiled slightly, he was ready to talk
he felt so confused about what was happening
she never thought it could be this hard
he finally said those three words,
she finally heard those three words
he took his hand away from hers
she stared at his from tearless eyes
he wondered if he hadn't been clear
she was too shocked to even cry
he had not said 'i love you'
she had heard 'we are done'
he got up and left, to live his life
she simply died with their love

ink art

The waiting is the worst
second thoughts and fear
trying to silence the voices
in your head
and then the machine
whirs into life
ready to carve those words
onto your skin
the first touch
a shudder as the pains shoots through
and then slowly
you get used to the sound
the ain, the feeling
and finally, ink on your skin
a piece of art, until death

a small wish

we survived colonization

we survived a civil war

and yet, caste, race, religion

even now, deciding factors

it starts wars, it stops love

if I could I would change it all

this hate, these divisions

then our never can be a maybe

our never, a someday