When all is cold and the winters are warm I hold the glass of water half way filled with Poison and bad luck, as I wonder off in a maze of pain and all that’s left of me is remain. When glory isn’t glory and pride isn’t pride, when agony and stress defeats you; how do you maintain without love and support from does who said they will never leave you? now winters come and summers are done without you here I have never loved. As my dreams become winters and the eminent life comes to hold, will my passion ever stay as the truth that will be told.
Abdulla Webster 18’93