Living

The ghost of your anklets,
Echo in the front yard
Of my house, broken by time.
The song that you hummed,
A broken tune,
Wordless, still plays,
Like some distant flute,
In my mind.
Thoughts about you are
A childhood kaleidoscope,
Changing colours at each corner.
Lonely nights
Void of the warmth
Of your sunshine
That used to light up my darkness.
This is my life now.
Without you.
I am black among white,
And I am still living.

-A (@firstdraftpoet on twitter)

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