We care no more,
And if we do, it's not enough.
It's not well at all.
They just lie in our bodies, like long dead ghosts,
Awaiting our death days, longing for our funerals,
Just for other different people, to wish to them,
The peace that we're supposed to be giving to them.
'May that soul Rest In Peace.' They would mourn.
What if we gave our souls that same peace,
While we still have it all, before it's all gone?
Maybe hell will be much less chaotic after all!
"Souls"
Drew Poetry
~Andy Mwalasha
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I was once as clean as a newly hatched chic's beak, but you turned me into hell's doormat. Misery's doorbell on pain's bunke... -
Gone are the days that you'd rest your head on my chest and smell the scent of my ripe goosebumps, those days that I would lose count o...
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An all wrapping book. Our fore-fathers named it "Life". Well, we adopted the same name and so, we also call it "Life". A...
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