Tormenting glassy confines,
Sucked into a vortex of time -
Month of merry making, no.
Month of tears told,
You spent time in fantasy
But you were never far away,
Yet you chose to forget reality :
The chill on a summer's day;
How dare you try forget
The roots from where you were born?
Roots that will now strangle you
For daring to get torn
Apart from the green fields and blue sky,
Fast tongues in gentle hearts,
Clean air and calm breeze -
What some love to call home
Yet you call it disease;
A cancer you try to rid,
A cancer which will not give in,
A cancer that you did
Because you are the one who sinned -
Against the mother,
Against the father,
The brother and the grandmother,
Sisters, uncles and aunts,
More family untold up in arms
Ready to mow you down
For you're the black sheep in that crowd,
The weed that must be pruned,
A good seed turned bad, they muse.
Yet you, lone flower, tried to defend
What is yours and who are you in sense,
To finally give up and give in
To everything that left her dead inside skin.
25 days more to life.
