The Sketch…

by : Bacardi Gold

Photo by Andrea Piacquadio on


the course seems to be so strange
stretched far as the eyes could see
lines full of spiny little thorns
tracing life’s untold painful byways

honeyed path, their moments are sweet
unmindful of those pauperized ones they see on the street
desirous hands ignored not one gold they’ve shared

pretty face, unkind heart,
familiar but not a godly
sketch of a human being



by : Bacardi Gold

Photo by Tiziano Pedrini on

i let you go from today

i set you free to be on your way

almost over is your time tracks

my dark cast duplicating my acts

when everything is calm

i can hear your footsteps

under the bright light of day

always there, the figure of gray

in the night of my dream

i barely saw you on my bed

holding my hands so tight

moving on a cloudy pale shade of light

a child i was and still very small

by chance i stumbled, fell and crawled

waited for you to lift me up

felt your absence as i stood up

i’m the dark figure cast upon the floor

the body intercepted light from your open door

your life, your heart and your soul in tow

depends upon me, myself, my beloved shadow

now i go breathless, stiff and cold

freedom was delivered precious as gold

pale and dumb as the shadow’s slept

from the depth under i go unwept…