Wednesday, 13 April 2016


Wipe off the dust, make it glitter,
scrub off the rust, make it neater,
lost was the trust, made you bitter,
forget the unjust, pop that blister.

Strangled that neck, then, licked fingers,
trust, led to a wreck, out, the soul lingers,
'Excuse me just a sec', all it took, stingers,
let go, end that trek, move, like the rivers.

Drew Poetry
Andy Mwalasha

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