À l’heure du tout à l’image et du buzz sans suite, «l’express» souhaite faire découvrir la plume de poètes, de chanteurs, d’écrivains et de tous ceux qui jettent leur âme sur le papier, et qui mettent en mots des réflexions profondes.

The flowers died on Monday. It took four weeks; a month for it to settle in that she is gone, a month for the world to miss her. At a week, the flowers started faltering, pleading for water and sinlight but she was not there to cater to their needs. At two weeks, their colour started to drain, the once vibrant green was replaced by a diseased brown and the beautiful petals started falling one by one. At three weeks, their desperation was evident. Her touch was yearned for, her voice echoing quieter as the minutes went on and her face, soon to be forgotten. After a month, a Monday, they were beyond saving. They were crumpled, dried out, devoid of any life. Soon, they would disintegrate completely, go back to the ground as dust, and her presence will be completely erased – from the surface of the earth, together with the memory of those once flourishing flowers.

Bio

JCK

At 18 years old, she is called by her passion for writing, searching to make herself and others heard.