THE RED NECKLACE
When l behold some friends around, l feel
I'm not alone to face my straying mind
that takes me northwards where it is too cold
or southwads where the sun scorches my skin.

I am one in a group, all are quite lost,
but each is happy that he's not alone.
A straying man among a group that strays
will think how strange are those but not himself.

Let me see you around, my dearest friends.
I'll be so glad with you, and you with me.
When sheep are taken to the slaughterhouse,
they don't care much for that blood red necklace.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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