A World of Hope

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Summer Night

Summer Night
by Kojo Addo and Matt Johnson

It is late in the night,
But the warmth of the day remains.
I look out and see a resting community.
The sky a burning sea of red,
Only to be parted by the bright moon.
The street light becomes the artificial sun.
The warmth of the night
Now replaced by a cool breeze,
Hushing the foreign sounds around me.
My nostrils dance with the scent of freshly cut grass.
My tongue tingles with the taste of barbeque.
My ears ring with the constant chirping of crickets.
I hear a rumbling behind a wall of daisies.
Two rabbits emerge.
They sit like statues in the grass,
Gazing upon the night.
I am also a statue.
My own world.
Silence. Stillness. Solidarity.


April 25, 2010 Posted by | Poem | , , , , , | 6 Comments

Tears On My Pillow

Tears On My Pillow
by Matt Johnson

Late at night, I am all alone.
My pillow stained with tears.
Tears from nights past,
Tears from night present.

I feel the aches of the body.
I feel the aches of the mind.
Yet I am numb.
The day’s events have dulled my senses.

Abuse has become my interaction.
There is no more “hello”.
Only strong hands against me.
Only “worthless”, “piece of shit”, “no good”, “pathetic”.

I hear what you say about me.
I see the way you look at me.
You do not know me.
You do not want to know me.

Dreams of spaceships and cowboys
Replaced by the nightmares of life.
Robbed of a childhood.
Given an understanding of life.

A single tear glides across my cheek.
A new nightly ritual before my sleep.
A tear for nights past,
A tear for night present.

April 25, 2010 Posted by | Poem | , , , , , , , | 1 Comment