WE ALL DIED

There is this silence
Heavier than the gunshot
A voice, keeping me away 
From telling you how much I...

This great unrealistic desire
Puts us all at a journey's end
At this primal days of our sojourn.
It is a thorn
Cutting deep, making us bleed
Yet protecting and decorating
Our dreams and TEARS and fears;
This razor
Bringing the true colour of our blood
But painfully, to the admiration of...
This porcupine skin
Taking or not taking:
each with its smile
each with its tears
each with its fears

There must be conversations
and the silence cripples us all

Then

The call came
the line died down
we all DIED, unconventionally!

20/11/2012, Language Centre, Legon.