The 8th Day Of The Week by Sihle Ntuli

Sihle Ntuli | September 1st, 2012 | a poem a day challenge, poetry | No Comments

Poet Bio

Death by Invisible pistol
And down I lie…
To tell the truth

Eye smelt oceans and cried
Envy was never so green
Green never so bad for my nature
Valentines’ Massacre drained us of the reds
We began to bleed uncertainty
Silver steps second best to the walks under moons
Reminiscing on days silence was golden

Your concussions when you would lie on my chest
Truth be told I was the victim
It was my chest

At times
I like to listen to clocks speak
Their faces speak wise but I was anti that
However now I realise I am one
It is at their hands that they continue to speak
They refuse to speak in reverse

Your Pistol smoking
Face Van Gogh blue
Perhaps one day things will change
On that weeks 8th day

Poet Bio

Sihle Ntuli (@Solosihle) is a writer from Durban. His other works can be seen on Sang Bleu,Litnet and Itch.

Click to rate this post!
[Total: 2 Average: 5]
(Visited 60 times, 1 visits today)