The Photograph

Every morning, your picture sits in front of me

I see you every time I look up from my writing

It focuses me more, my story is centred on you

From the past, events build the backstory

You revised the currency of your new being

The phantom fox extends it into infinite possibilities

You are chased across the pages

Nothing is clear until the turn

Your true personality explodes

I couldn’t see this before, it’s driving my new chapters

Now the picture takes me onwards

In the evening, the side light bathes the photograph

I watch it as the darkness fills my room, it colours my words

The pages develop into where we should be

Where we should end

The means is lacking somewhat and I am at a loss

I look at your glowing image colouring my study brown

I have difficulty thinking on as the world is brown

My heavy eyes see little, so I rest

The coffee is bitter as it descends my throat, scalding me

I sip again and suffer more

The flaming fire burns at me as I huddle closer

I peer into the flames that flicker scenes

Dance characters across the coals

The fleeting glimpses miss my mind

They play like clouds on a summer’s day

They do not rest long enough to form

I look back at the desk, your image still stares at me

Haunting me across the room

The ending waits as I finish my coffee

The pain jabs me as it goes down

It’s like a stabbing dagger landing in my gut

I see you cutting there

I see you jabbing over a lifetime of indiscretions

There is only one way to go

I see it happening to the end

I take the picture from the frame and throw it into the fire

You look back at me, the edges smoulder and burn

The image lasts for what seems an age, until you are gone

I poke you into the coal and dust

x

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Cry Freedom

There is a cry, a voice to be heard

Calling for freedom, calling it loud

So loud that the island shakes

Seeing the need freedom of too

Freedom from the oppressors

Those who keep us all down

Freedom for the future

Just to be ourselves

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Apart is meant

I now see you

You beat me and you have your way

Not just now, but for decades, it has been so

I take it, and I take it

Like I have no choice

Time will come when

We will be apart

Then I can have a voice

One that is soft but clear

I no longer want the hostility

I do want the civility

To go my own way

And do what others do

My tattered clothes can be replaced

Now, I stand in them, on my own

They see the real me

See that I am worthy

An example to all, I will be

But, you, remember where we are

And what you are doing to me

When later you will want my hand

Which, because of this

May not be taken

I will promise though

That if you relent your fury now

I may stand with you

Accepted as an equal

Free nation

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Cry Freedom

There is a cry, a voice to be heard

Calling for freedom, calling it loud

So loud that the island shakes

Seeing the need freedom of too

Freedom from the oppressors

Those who keep us all down

Freedom for the future

Just to be ourselves

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