poem #8 (1)

 ... 

Nothing had really happened that day, 

That humid afternoon in mid May. 

There was no breeze in the city by the sea, 

And still were the Cypress trees, 

that lined the streets

in the city by the sea. 

Whilst the weather showed no obvious signs of gloom, 

there was a fear of impending doom. 

Revolution was coming, 

and it was coming soon. 

The city was divided.

Those from the north has become too comfortable, 

And the city had become ungovernable. 

The language people spoke was no longer the same, 

And it seemed that everybody has someone to blame. 

In the city I call home, 

I watched,

from afar, 

the people roam. 

The streets were full of them, 

And the city came to become, 

one filled with slums. 

Those in power had done nothing, 

And the people had had enough. 

A revolution was coming, 

and I knew it. 

...