The shadow looked and laughed out loud
In a pit toilet the suicide note was left to dry
Needles around showed traces of life gone
Most were memories and tears long
The room was cold, dark and sense of humor had left
The laughter died from a tunnel with no echo
Rumor had it, somehow rumor left with it
Long long long ago was a memoir that couldn’t be remembered
Alzheimer’s from birth of the death’s tale
A clear story was told of how to fail
Passing was what is called a white’s pale
A rosary of a Virgin Mary so was to hail
Rain soon joined the day
Winter was on the way from May
Shivering tomorrow had no desire to be but yesterday
So once gone it is history of what was today
Life is the bureaucratic presence of absence
For some this is a journey for juxtapose memoirs of other
Wishful thinking if getting their lives recorded forever
So much no one carry their obituary home after the funeral
The real test to experience is time they say
Yet a still-born has a sin to bear I say
Aborted girl gives birth in a grave of a pick it up
A born child cries and prays death comes faster its fed-up
Pass me over is a wish
I don’t just dream due to failure to sleep
Nightmares celebrates in the morning after
Wet-dreams have a morning glory
Pass me over is what should be
Today's thought: If you think life gets in the way of your dreams, by all means, Go back to sleep***Vonani Mashila***