some religious folks,
say when we die blah blah. Is a long story.

other folks, intellectuals,
have theories that when we die, we die. The end of the story.

On a fateful day, a child is alone. feeling sorry.

older folks are in deep despair and weary.

tears keeps you from seeing clearly.

open your eyes and be bold in your query.

Is it that we fear death, or that any new form of freedom is scary?

To my mother, Nyahnial Paul Gak Deng.

Short poems.