Painting On The Wall Poem by Alan Kabanshi

Shine with an artistic impression, Helpless but one stands to stare
In a glowing smile smeared with envy and a promise of an after life
But in the palms of a reference sprouts forth a difference
And the roots of a painting are but buried from a dropp of paint.

Vast and open like an ocean waiting to be filled
The earth’s bowls gulp without satisfaction
Consumed to its thirsty, it imbibes men like a broken vessel
Astonished in awe
Many eye them like a painting on the wall
Surrounded for a salute of last respect
Those close at heart rip apart like it’s the first
Hymns sang for another life to be held in a museum of tales
Where details beyond nakedness are exposed for all to feast
Lessons framed for all to learn
But Fools fall in blindness of their ego
And many have their tongue make them deaf
Open your eyes and cut your tongue, a thousand fold has fallen
Give hear to their voice, as they speak a lesson
All framed in experience of choices and consequences
Lest loads of you, be fields of chaff.

2008