SPOKEN WORD POETRY, A TOOL FOR HEALING

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I wondered how I could help myself.
Been tortured by my past present and what if future? Who else can I talk to?

My emotions are sinking me deep into this pit where there’s no help.
I’m drowning, craving to be heard. I’m yelling, with love I wanna be fed.

I live in pain and loads of questions and yet the only relief is the sound of my pen on paper,
The sound of the teardrop… I watched Annie lay down broken and helpless.

Her eyes are deeply in their sockets, damn she’s so scared.
All she wished for was that there’d just be a wind of miracle.
So she could breathe free clean air. But her life feels like an incomplete puzzle.

She hears my words as they tickle her ears.
Here, her eyes closed and her hand tight in mine,
she sighs in tears… Her cheeks all pink, she smiles.
I could see the relation.

Although she knew there was no time, She had what she wished for.
I had never seen her blush in so many weeks. The smile on her lips sat
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By Theresa Kufuor a.k.a Twitter Lit