imagined words I couldn’t hear
I said; “I was born in sixty eight, heard the guns from my mother’s womb, I could sense the fear and panic; my future, I presumed
As a child I walked, broken-bottle streets alongside barricaded roads I fled from shops with hysterical humans, heard the screams; it’s going to explode!
I did without bread, milk, school and electric, learned to count tit-for-tat on the news. I tried to keep score, the task was impossible; the numbers morphed into empty shoes
I knew where I could walk 65