He told her stories of his childhood,
Stories from his past,
Of how his years and days
Went by so fast.
Of how he was always
By life bound
And how he always stayed
Close to the ground.
Of how his friends spoke
Behind his back
And of all the admirable
Qualities he’d lack.
He spoke of skies
And of the sea
Of how he envied the
Birds that were free,
Of how he loved winter
And savoured the cold
And how that was weird
Or so he was told.
He spoke of his demons
And things from deep within
And almost all the things
That lay beneath his skin.
He said he was in love
And it made his love a blur
But never did he ever say
That it was her.
© Uwais Coetzee
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Matriculant 2018
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