Time stood still in that land of fern
Where people came and found compassion
White sands
Sadness flew
Where only palms and coconuts bloomed.
Was there joy? None that I can tell
Neither song nor lullaby to be heard.
Silence! Loud and supreme as hell
Not a whisper, not a sound to be heard.
This land far far far away
Close to our minds yet far at bay
Is the land of the spirits
Where ghosts find their gimmicks
I'm so sorry, I should've updated sooner but I've had exams since August and it hasn't been easy.
Much love
YOU ARE READING
Drums and sands
Poesíalife through the eyes of an African child. Her transformations, her visions. Those things we can never 'unlive', sights we can't 'unsee', those things make us alive; US!
