The first metaphor I wrote
With excitement and a little fear for taking a peek of literature
That
The absence of feeling echoed in the empty corridors
The ostensibly impeccable interier
But an undesirable perfection
In dedication to a place called home.
The second metaphor I wrote
With respect but also fear
That
The indifferent presence
Bitterly depicted
The unapproachable love and care
of my one and only mother
The last metaphor I wrote
With sorrows and numbness of tears
That
The torned-apart regrets with
The incomplete metaphors and
The gratitude and acknowledgement that has not yet shown
And the final farewell that never took place
All hindered by the fear of judgements
This poem
In remembrance of
Ms. Hancock
