You surveyed the night & you found your heart littered with guilt--- you quivered.
My eyes green are 2 glass windows into the past.
you are two fragments in my heart one is a moonlight tale with infants on the knees of a grizzled woman
I ran for the last metro, face covered with scarf. A large bag on the moving escalator, I keep.
The morning that a stranger jumped into my wife’s bathtub I was buried in the pages of a blank journal & Microsoft PowerPoint.
I want to go back in time, To days long before my prime, When nothing was my business...
My lips will rise to build a perfect smile, When I see my colourful coat glowing, And my forever world growing.
Healing is a game of forgetfulness - Pamilerin Jacob.
There's a sorrow in the sound of her words Where the past lingers to torment her...
The poem ‘The Wailing Sound of the Piano’ is an emblem of the African and Western culture. The writer portrayed an indirect compassion between both cultures, metamorphosing the Drum and the Piano.