Poems

Mismatched

I am a cold breeze in the summer season.

I do all the right things but for all the wrong reasons.

I am the villain in my own dreams,

A stranger to my purpose, I’m never what I seem.

I am a spotted zebra, a striped cheetah,

Mismatched in every space,

I am that bald lion, a grounded eagle,

I’m different in every way.

I am a whisper in a crowded room,

Unheard and unnoticed, faded into gloom

I am a flower that never blooms,

A beauty hidden in its own cocoon

I am a puzzle with missing pieces, a story with no end,

A bridge that leads to nowhere, that message never sent

I am a feathered fish, a scaly bird in the sky,

A flower with no petals, a painting with no lines

I am a book of blank pages, a song without sound,

A ship on dry land, a treasure never found.

Mismatched. My journey restarted;

Mismatched. My path, winding and uncharted.

­­– Pearly Wordz

Escaping death

Split second.

Grey metal,

pressed against my forehead,

Sweat came – floodgates

I saw my coffin – oblong box, draped.

People filing past: true friends,

hypocrites. Snapshot of the eulogy – a flash

of brimstone and fire from the preacher’s

eyes and lips.

Metallic click.

But the gun refused to speak

… that morning.

– Rohan Facey

Something missing from lives of men

Something is missing from the lives of men

Is it peace? Is it love? Or is it understanding?

I’ve heard a thousand blended notes,

Moving up on the morning clouds

It awakens the bird in songs of cheer

And the melodies ringing in the air in Praises to God

With men in their knowledge forget that they have a Creator they should turn to

In songs of praise to refresh the morning air

The joys of living don’t always seem to be here anymore

Men in their hearts, hunger for riches

Open up the arms the hearts of theirs,

But never seem to be satisfied

So the hours of the days and the night never seem to be enough

Fear and torment have added their portion to their reaping treasures

It is so wonderful, so marvelous to know

That when the mind is enlightened.

And the burden of life is no more to bear

And the spring of joy is flowing everywhere

– Linton Parks