Thursday, 19 May 2016


That much light, in your eyeballs,
That much height, on your walls.

Late nights we fight, on all our calls,
Always alright, but with tear falls.

What's that? My face you won't look at,
What made us blunt? We used to cut!

Well, now you love more of your cat,
I hate it's stares at me, like am a rat!

I wonder what I never did, or even gave,
Made promises to love you to my grave.

When I said to you "I love you my Dove", 
An empty stare was all that you gave!

Drew Poetry
~Andy Mwalasha

No comments:

Post a Comment


Gone are the days that you'd rest your head on my chest and smell the scent of my ripe goosebumps, those days that I would lose count o...