bradevans2403
A little boy brought up in the heart of Sub-Saharan Africa discovered Literature the night before his first IGCSE Literature examination.
I, the only to gaze down the rear-view,
Amidst Thirteen, or Twelve who do not.
No glare off the bonnet they see,
Instead a large obstacle.
Dull? I pondered on the diesel fumes
Interrupting
And, we turned a corner, I braked. He gave
way, and off were we.
Unlike me, free.
Free from fees, fences, fickle souls.
Here I live, and as each road-line rolls,
My sight grows longer.
-Signed-
One touch right there,
One breathe does stare
Like a skipping heart
Or an ill tuned guitar
With razor chords
That stand on edge,
But pause, but bridge.
Not too fast. Hold.
And go again into you
And your heart's restlessness -
Ugly words tear ears,
Emotions scramble off tongues,
Explosive spit dwindles out the light.
And our senses are succumbed.
We fall back to ourselves;
There's one in a full bed.
-Signed-