born, breed and raised my home became too lucid. it used to be a place to come to,
to get away from all the madness that surrounded us, a world to refuge from the world today.
my home became too bright.
all you could hear was the laughter, of boys and girls after school as they played, t
he sound of birds singing. now all you hear is construction, cars and dogs barking at prowlers.
as my home became deafening.
you could smell the choking fumes as our mine worked away,
the smell of trees and the fresh smell of bread in the morning. a
ll you can smell now is the bitter stench of oils, smoke and sewage gone wrong.
my home became too crowded.
you could feel the love of people crossing paths as they said hello,
as every face looked familiar. the irritating feeling as eyes of prying people pierce your back.
all that you feel now is rages and curses, resentment and hexes.
and my home became deadened.
all you could see was the love of people as they gathered at there own meeting places and shared stories. when all faces looked like a potential friend. all you see now are blood and wounds.
my home became malignant.
some fled, some stayed, some died and some will come back.
as my home becomes stiffened.
stars used to look like tiny moons with their white fires glistening from afar.
you cannot see that now...
Home became bright.
Gino Obuseng
