Not Long Left Poems

a single droplet of rain,
trickles freely down my window pane,
stopping for a few frozen seconds,
as if mapping out its next move.
...

As I close the door for the very last time
I hear the sounnd of creaking metal grind.
The rubbing of the wood upon the floor
Sounds of which I shall hear no more.
...

As it was the reversal of birth
He wanted to die alone.

To close the eyes
...

Hammer down the columns of history
Rip down the flags of this once proud country.
Disconnect talk of hope and replaced it with fear
Disperse our communities we once held so dear.
...

Vacant stare, noons a nighmare,
fours hours to prepare,
for the outside-
Mothers and there children pollute the street,
...

the problem with wearing,
your hearrt on your sleeve,
is thats is so easily to lose,
unless you wear it like,
...

with rain,
tapping on my head,
and wind,
whipping my face,
...

in between hope and despair,
there-
we let our minds drift,
there-
...

The sound of swishing
wakens the still slumbering morning
A smoggy cough catipults itself
from its cave
...