Read my poetry and you’ll knowWe no longer share the same spaces,places mix with traces of youFamiliar albums sound so foreign,I was left without a clueWe parted like the Nile,after years of streaming lakes There’s no use, and then I criedThings still felt the sameI decided to gather my thoughtsWhich got lost, unlike my faithTo have and to hold was taught to be mundaneI write and I wrote so similarlyI felt sillyAs this chapter ended, one thing remainedI was left with poetry to my name.

(Photography by Simson Petrol on Unsplash)