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Story: abel udoekene

Mournful Melody

7 June 2012

a poem

I live most time like I never did,
I take a step, think my conscience,
and the rest willing and hoping to live more.
Sometimes my thought can never be wrong,
but my conscience think differently,
more days for me is a miracle, a dream, a song and a story to tell.
For living is fun, dying I cannot tell,
yet some people who breath this same air
by choice or chance fall on another without any pity.
To me, we still breath this same air
despite all this hatred and corruption,
for if I live one more day after now,
my thought will never change,
living and loving you is all I want