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Melica Niccole

Still Under Construction

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As I got back into my workout regimen last weekend, I was in my feelings about all the things that had taken place lately. I needed an outlet, so I decided to write this poem.

Shattered windows. Shattered dreams. Ulterior motives it seems. Pieces of him. Pieces of me. It’s just too bad the blind are the first to see. Legacies undone. A man gone before the sun. Set on his life. Fatherless kids gloom amongst the ranks. Souls torn for they have witnessed the Shawshank before the redemption. It’s sad because some may never get this. The past remain the present with heavily coated makeup. Covering up all the blemishes. Showing the beautiful exterior when it the interior that is “Still under construction.” Keep out and skull bone signs show there is imminent danger, but how can one know when the package has been adorned to protect?

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