When You Are Gone - Mduduzi Basick Dlodlo

Here is a quick and rare treat for the long weekend ahead... A poem from our very own

here at Rise Limited Mr Database or simply Basick... Do read, comment, like and share this poem

from the talented writer.

When I'm Gone

Do you know that there's strength in your tears? The cleansing and washing away of wrinkled smiles starts from when you discover oceans beneath your eyelids. I wonder if letting go will ever greet that clinched fist you walk around with, at war with yourself and the world. If I told you open hands give more and receive more would you believe me? What if I told you that closed palms left eyes blue when they defined what love is. I bet you still wouldn't believe me if I told you that the secrets of the universe are in every breath you take and no matter how broken you may be, gasping for a taste of air, your lungs never forgot how to breathe, and hearts were never built of steel to rival the greet wall of china. Mind you, most of us believe they are, because we've learned to trust fears more than love and called life a lesson more than an experience. If sadness abounded you and left a note under your doormat begging you not to chase it would you run after the decay you've called comfort just to feel at home again? Do you know that you leave me everyday and at times you dislike me more than you love me, and if tomorrow a stranger told you "he doesn't love you like he use to" you'd take he's word into consideration. Waiting to die has never fulfilled a longing heart when life was busy writing love letters. When one day I wake up and you've packed all your belongs away, silenced the pillow talks and all you've left me with is memories that shape me, ill be an even greater man, something like my father and yours are, when I've steadied my hands enough to wipe away the tears, when I've found the courage to laugh and smile again,  remember this, I will love you still and ill celebrate with you when a stranger sweeps you off your feet cause ill never be brave enough to tell you, because like you, I also run around with a clinch fist but ill remember how it felt like when you held my hands and I learned how to let go of the fight, nostalgia will be my best friend... and you will be poetry still because an author only knows he's words when all is lost.