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»Going home«

by Zithelo Mnguni, July 20, 2011

I cease to breathe
I cease to breathe at the thought that I have to leave
I am seized, left, right and centre by emotions that I don't want to believe
I have been sitting here, camping here, dwelling here
Among the graves waiting for our resurrection
Thinking that somehow I could revive this love and make you revise

How can the pain not be the same?
How can the same tree bear bad fruit for me and good fruit for you?
How can these two hearts break unevenly?
If this was a sin why are we not burning in the same lake of fire?
I heard that life was unfair but I thought death was the one with a sting.

But now I gather my rags ready to make my way back home
I have been living in this desolation and in ruins
Mourning for a soul that is happily in heaven
That will never turn around or even look back in my eyes
He is gone. He is gone and he will never again be mine

I try to drink up the color as I make my way home
Just to add pinkness to my soul but it battles to go down my throat
Battles to go past this lump that has made my throat its home
But it doesn't matter because I'm on my way home again
I have sat here, camped here, dwelt here
In hope of a less greyer day tomorrow
But now I'm going home. I'm going in search of my happy self

Written: June 2011
Tags: Disappointment Emotions Lovesick Personal

The © Copyright to this poem is owned by the author.
Published by writerslounge.net on July 20, 2011 under courtesy of the author.


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