Walking Wounded
Scars on the inside, none on the out
Wounded and bleeding, but I still walk about
I may seem fine, I wear a fake smile
But I'm wobbly and shaky, I walk a thin line
I'm standing up, but I'm falling down
And as I fall down the world spins around
The sky darkens, the sun crashes
The moon burns out and turns to ashes
The stars fall down, the wind stops blowing
The sea dries up, the water stops flowing
I'm not me anymore, I'm someone else
I can't feel anymore, it’s the hand I was dealt
You grabbed the knife and pierced my chest
Right through my heart and I can't rest
Now the knife is stuck, forever glued in
I still walk about, but I'm walking wounded.
Copyright 2011 Crystal Crichlow
Home (Barbados)
Anticipation sets in as we get on the plane
Its been almost ten years, will things be the same?
Will the clear blue waters still sparkle like new?
Are they polluted and mirky or can you see right through?
And when we go to the beach, and walk on the sand
Will it still feel the same, will we remember this land?
Will we remember the people we once called our friends?
They won’t look the same, they’re now women and men.
This beautiful island will no longer seem big
So, what will it be like, this place we once lived?
What about the food, will it taste the same?
The fish, the fruit, the sugar cane?
Can we survive the weather? Can we take the heat?
Can we still walk around with nothing on our feet?
As the plane approaches, I look out the window
I see clear blue waters, the sand and people below
I don’t know what will happen once we get off this plane
I do know this is our home, and that will never change.
Copyright 2007 by Crystal Crichlow
Its been almost ten years, will things be the same?
Will the clear blue waters still sparkle like new?
Are they polluted and mirky or can you see right through?
And when we go to the beach, and walk on the sand
Will it still feel the same, will we remember this land?
Will we remember the people we once called our friends?
They won’t look the same, they’re now women and men.
This beautiful island will no longer seem big
So, what will it be like, this place we once lived?
What about the food, will it taste the same?
The fish, the fruit, the sugar cane?
Can we survive the weather? Can we take the heat?
Can we still walk around with nothing on our feet?
As the plane approaches, I look out the window
I see clear blue waters, the sand and people below
I don’t know what will happen once we get off this plane
I do know this is our home, and that will never change.
Copyright 2007 by Crystal Crichlow
