They say I am your photocopy,
Meanwhile you left me no pen to copy,
no paper to sketch you.
I grew up knowing you were overseas
Hoping you will return back,
Yet to my amazement,
Its a journey you will never return
Growing up without you is like africa without a horn,
a continent without a madagascar .
you left scars of sorrow on my heart
Stories untold, dreams shattered,
just because of your abscense......
Melfa The Poet