Worn with age hanging on my wall

Faded by years

In her, I find solace

Through the multitude of those haunting years

Painted brown, blue, pink and yellow

A multicoloured pigment from the past

Alas, upon her shoulders

Once hung my hopes for life

A reminder, this is at it was in time past

In cold and dreary nights

In the storm of life

Of the life I could have lived

And of the things together

We could have achieved

Death cut our long stories short

Claiming a life, your life

Plus the life of our yet-to-born children

Throwing me in disarray and in pain

Beclouded without a pint of gain

Like a hiding place from the wind

A place of concealment from the rainstorm

Her portrait has become

A permanent reminder through fading with reality

Of how and what my life could have become

Before she was enshrouded

In the blossom of death



Stink, foul- bloated The attitude you display Alone and in the midst of friends You got me in feeling “Us” is a mistake To which I must seek an end Inwardly growing always Your voice speaks What you are inwardly thinking And those thoughts stink Pitch black, lacking trust You …

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