By Tshikororo Nyandano
I see the gone, I see the future and it all turns into illusion. I get frustrated, confused. Was it a thought, a wish, or a dream? Is it a vision?
The dead are my friends. I speak to them, they sing for me, we dance together even the times we don’t even know what and why we’re celebrating we just enjoy the moment. Weird right? I also find it weird; I can’t even tell it to my closest buddies anymore. Some think I’m crazy, some say I’m just making it up stories for attention. Well I’m too old to be making up such stories.
Are you a Ghost whisper? I’m not there yet but I feel them coming I hear them talking they’re saying something but I don’t seem to get.
Make me understand.
Morphy's Gallery 