michelle deyce


Stilte... - Poem by michelle deyce

Meteens was daar STILte...
STILte!
STILte!
'n Pynigende STILte was al wat daar oor was die dag toe jy padgee.
Dit was doodSTIL in my ore want ek hoor jou stem nie meer.
Dit is STIL in my oë, bewegingloos want geen beeld van jou word meer daarin gereflekteer.
Meteens was daar STILte...

My hande lê STIL langs my sy, niemand om aan te raak of vas te hou.
My voete is STIL, niemand se hart om na te jaag of om te omvou.
Meteens was daar STILte...

My gedagtes het tot STILstand gekom want al wat ek ooit aan kon dink was JY maar nou is jy weg en als is STIL
Moet nie my hart vernalaat wat eens ritmies reageer het met joune,
Onreëlmatige polsslae
Stadiger
Stadiger
Glad nie meer
STIL! ! !
En daar was STILte in my siel
Niks anders as STILte...


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Poem Edited: Tuesday, May 17, 2011


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