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Alexandra C Jul 2016
Where am I?
The real me has disappeared
Invisible to the naked eye

I stared at the mirror for my reflection
But there was nothing there
Where have I gone?
I can't find myself anywhere
No matter how much I search

I'm afraid
What if I never find myself?
How far has the real me strayed?
The only remnants of the real me is in a photobook on the book shelf

Sometimes I look at those photos and cry
What was I like back then?
I guess I'll never know  

In the meanwhile I'll play pretend
Mimic the faces of the girl I used to be
A poem about a lost girl who is trying to find herself.
We snapped memories into photobook
Watching the edges of songful hedges
Draw  a hopeful singlet of grace of
Testimonies conquered in neglected verses.
We played from the check of honoured
Dimples crossing routes of perfections.
Here are tunes playing from the photoshop
Of our hearts designing graphics cards
Filled with affections &bubbles of love.

Portrait of tomorrow carved an amazing
hours in the street decorated with colours.
these are colours depicting greatness
freshness &braveness of the voiceful heart
Kitchened through the celestial laughter
Of a slighting mother to her joyfulness.
We are similar, singular and opposite,
We are plural of everything humanity,
Sweetness of every singing lyrics & verses.

Let's this fondleness remain captivating
boys. Sweet. Bitter. Acidic. Sour. Raw.
Reflection of the World Series of smiles
Printing names on carved pumpkins leafs
Boys carrying themselves in their shadows
Carrying themselves in memories of their
Parents' pastoral culture and languages.
Boys spinning into crispy treats of white
dreams written on the stream of the skies.

We are fascinated about the rare cloud
journeying towards the stars of our souls
Harbouring our names in a bag of colours
Imagination are doubtful unperturbed pictures
Painted in the innocent face of boys of tomorrow
After the sun bent the tremour of our rushes
The rain came like a troubadour warrior
Between veteran lips of boys who went &never
returned memories of their family portraits.

We are boys carrying our family's loss
We are boys carrying our Father's legacy
Bearing the pursuit of our fathers yesterday
Look into our eyes & see our imaginations
those imaginations created by our ancestral
ancestors for tomorrow to hold our peace.
We may not know that these sands are made
of ridges of boys like us who went carrying
Pictures of dreams that we could not retrieve.


©John Chizoba Vincent
FromAPenRefusingFrustration
Skyler H 15h
Hear the candle popping as it's burning
Slightest glow on the kitchen table
Tired faces lit with sorrow circle the room
Then the shared pains follow
A room with memories left behind
Empty looks watching an empty house
Once every full moon
We share each other's light
But that's all just in my mind

Photobook of moments
Burned into our conscience
We speak without words
Our looks say more than enough
We know when it's been raining on us for a bit too long
And we keep company when it's hard to hold on
If we got the chance wouldn't choose anyone else
We both feel the storm just the same
But i don't know how that works
It's all just in my head

Wondering what it's like
Always with family
A word that's hard to define
Brings so much joy or pain
A sweet relief you won't escape
Or burning hell you wish to erase?
When it's just you
You don't know what to know
Is it really destiny
Is that really family?

— The End —