Tee2emm

Be gone for a day, Be gone forever, The road home never forgets. She is sometimes beautiful, and sometimes ugly  And sometimes she is both Depending on the memories she holds She changes her shade like a chameleon She is fair with her scores In both our wins and losses Like the sun shines on all irrespective Turn in her direction The nostalgia will pour in Like the intoxication of a cheap strong rum The road back home Is the only road that leads us back to our thoughts

There is a man with a gun at my father's door The streaks of blood in his eyes make it obvious what he's come for. THE COWARDS WE'VE BECOME https://audiomack.com/tee2emm

Coat Of Shame is a Spoken Word Poetry EP that will surely leave you awed.  To much talk will drain your curiosity, so I'll leave you with the link to judge for yourself. https://audiomack.com/tee2emm/album/coat-of-shame

Finally published my first solo collection of poems on Kindle, please go check out. https://www.amazon.com/Forty-Days-Nights-Collection-Poems-ebook/dp/B0B1W2BTPC/ref=mp_s_a_1_44?crid=DCXVUW8HOS7Q&keywords=forty+days+and+forty+nights&qid=1657238586&sprefix=forty+days+and+%2Caps%2C273&sr=8-44

"I've seen the world in a glance And it's beautiful Despite our cruelty...." The candle went out before the last line The paper still lies blanketed by dust Like a few others craving the tickling tip of a pen. 2 years plan to change ground This is the second of the two Orientation changed but the ground stayed the same I guess abortions don't happen to babies alone Broken ties and pacts New nylons to fix them back But they seem to have defied all tact It seems to have been a year of clumsiness Promises broken even before they were made My nephew is yet to get his chess board My niece is yet to go out for that vanilla ice cream And Blessing is yet to get a make up for her eluded birthday. I could as well promise only to fail again. The year seems to have beaten me to the finish line She went from January to December I'm still struggling to leave the cradle of January.

Soldiers sown in the field And bodies usually are the yield Bodies of strangers, friends and colleagues Leaving survivors with long lonely monologues Rendering life without taste or feel   In this clash of elephants The casualties include animals, civilians, even infants. That is to say but the least. Vultures gather in circles to feast On the remains of once beautiful living beings.   Where then is the profit of war? When rebuilding cost so much more Both humanly and materially.