Hey Miss Honey,

I saw you again a few days ago.

I saw your fantasy cottage at the furthest border in the forest.You gave me a cup of tea, with your broken handled mug… remember?

Hey Miss Honey,

With your lagoon-blue eyes, only some really understood, you saw what ambitions I carried deep inside myself…so you gave me my first book.

The book you left right under my parents noses…I read your book cover to cover and dreamed maybe I wouldn’t awake.

So forth our little visits became a ritual and classes with you were always too short.

Hey Miss Honey,

You leaved through me, like I was an interesting fairytale. In little time you discovered a little girl with sorrows and wounds. Enough to make you cry.

Since then you were always so-so sorry for me, with parents like these, who never saw what you saw in my rueful eyes.

Hey Miss Honey,

Today you saw my brokenness from a house of screams and a telly for their attention and not me. You saw me broken and still brought me flowers of everything i need.

Hey Miss Honey,

Your imaginative adoption brought me back. Your mothers love dyed my blue-black heart red…and brought back my 5-year-old spring in my step.

Hey Miss Honey,

I wrote this piece of literature to show you all I have learned from your soft hands and warm smile…never stop being the same, as you were with me, with the rest of the broken youth.

(All the same for you, fellow South-Arican youth,I pray every night, a Miss Honey might be a light in you life)