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DAYS OF MY CHILDHOOD.

 

 

 

My unforgettable days,

Days of my childhood,

Days of my tears,

Days of my joy,

Days of my puppy love,

Where I used to stand in front of her visible eyes naked.

I use to run in the rain naked.

I was afraid to go outside at night.

Everyone I knew was a friend of mine.

I had no enemy.

Tears of joy and happiness to me where the same.

Days of my beginning,

Days of my childhood,

Where I use cry for everything I want.

Days of my mother love.

Days of my father love.

Days of my days,

Where I use to pee at night.

Goners are those days of good memories.

Days of my childhood are the best days of my life.

Days of my moods,

Days of my non-stop tears,

Days of my happiness.

Days of my virginity,

Days of my good days.

 

 

 

 

 

ORPHANS KNOCK

 

Long she stood under moonlight and strong wind.

Knocking at the door, they all hear her but nobody opened the door.

The wind was blowing a rain started.

I did not knowing wether she was crying or not cause it was raining.

But she was crying.

 

She sat down and put a hand on the chick.

I quest was thinking about her parents and wondered why they died.

I opened a window to call her.

She couldn’t hear me, the pain in her blocked her ears.

As tears were dancing a song of sorrow on her face.

 

The pain she was experiencing was of loosing both parent and unheard knock.

She stood up and knocked again, nobody came to open the door.

The wind so strong and the pain so cold.

She had nowhere to go and no one to tell.

She was lonely emotionally.

 

Her eyes were telling a tragic story that hurts so much.

The rain stopped, wind continued, she was still there.

You could read from her eyes that she had lost the spark of like.

She had lost passion vision inner sight mentality and inspiration.

She had also lost dignity and virginity

The rain started again she was still there, crying for her knock to be heard.

 Petros Khoza

 

 

A line is a dot…

A line is a dot that took a walk

Petros Khoza

poetry is tears

TO MY ABORTED CHILD

 

If you were a son,

My son am sorry.

If you were a daughter,

Daughter of mine forgive me.

Me and your mom we always had troubles all the times.

And we couldn’t stay together anymore.

When we fell apart she was pregnant of you.

Then she aborted you, without my permission.

I miss you wherever you are.

In any drain that you are passing.

Think of me I love you.

You are my blood, my real blood.

Loosing it’s like losing a pound of my flesh.

But please may your innocent soul rest in peace.

I’ll get to know you better when I arrive.

I’ll explain tharally what has happened between me and your mother.

So soon I’ll be with you.

My days that are left are so short.

At any time, any day I’ll be with you.

Wait for me am coming.

My child if I had a womb,

I would have taken you from her and grow you in me.

Petros Khoza