Poetry, Tale Africa

When the clock strikes midnight

maxresdefaultBy Ayanda Xaba, South Africa:

I was sleeping

Even though I kept tossing and turning

My eyes kept weeping

Like winter rain my tears kept falling

Slowly bitter and cold

I was sleeping

My whole being was torn down

Face, body everything was facing down

I didn’t have the energy to lift myself up

For I was literally down

I was sleeping

My heartbeat became more and more painful

Why wasn’t I more careful?

If felt as if every breath was leaving my body forcefully

How could I be such a fool?

Now I know this is exactly how heartbreak feels

I was sleeping

I wasn’t asleep, I couldn’t find any snores

My mind kept flashing back to all the memories

Which now feel like painful dreams

They never stop, these endless nightmares

My reality has become a fictional series

For a change I wish to wake up with little smiles

Hoping the universe will show me that love exists

I was sleeping

I long for laughter, freedom, joy

I long for some sanity

One can’t be miserable for all eternity

I need to wake up from all this uncertainty

And when I do I will realize;

I was sleeping

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