Photo credit: Jan Tinneberg
Walls are thick: Will you hear the King?
Today, someone lost their life,
Hush, don’t cry! Take a pill, just chill,
as we ate, drank sweet wine, watch tv,
While some bid—Adios, goodbye:
Be strong, toughen up, stay true,
pray, listen to jazz, Christmas songs
or even the Blues!
The inner child wants to scream;
of the abnormal ways of feeling the blues,’
It seems grief was like ‘a gold mine:
There lies a coffin with a sleeping body,
“Are you blind?,”
Like we were at a wedding not a farewell,
or a silent prayers of a goodbye:
Walls are thin: Will you hear the King?
I hear you dancing, partying like no tomorrow,
As if you have met the Prince,
Who will be next—will it be me,
You, or the next of Kin?
Live life—eat and be merry,
So you say:
My mother, my brother, my uncle, my father is gone,
My friends has disappear and passed on;
tech gadgets are there for a while:
The clouds soon be gone, and the sun will shine;
Some will hear the whisper—the silence of a baby cries,
Who knows, maybe just maybe, he or she,
Don’t need, goodbyes;
And has finally felt freedom and meet the golden prize,
Our precious King, that says, ‘Welcome, Here I AM,