poems & stories, book available on Amazon
Some days I crave a sun so bright
Instead of Memphis rain
And people that can say my real name
Some days I feel my skin turning back
A darker shade close to black
And I hear my roots calling me home
But most days I know I am not alone
In feeling so far away from home
We’re all immigrants after all
Waiting for the call
To return to heaven
Ideas that take foreign shapes lead to restless sleep
He lays his head ignoring the ghosts of the undead
…
She posts a post on Facebook that no one understands
“Why’s she so weird? Who would like this post?” They whisper behind bright screens, reblogging ideas simple and plain
He dreams of knowing her name
That girl in the coffee shop that looks too shy
They dream, of someone knowing their name
(I’m writing this half asleep)
