Tuesday, 16 August 2016


You say you love me, I think I love myself,
You are short, my heart's high up this shelf,
I'll make a damn graveyard, with this poem,
The guy I see in my mirror you do owe him, 
Few prayers, oceans of tears, to this, Amen,
I kill no ladies, my gun only points, at men, 
A thorny tree, you'd still dare steal my fruits,
Conflict of ideologies, take flowers or fruits,
Make your damn choice, I'll water the roots,
Point it at you, spit, lick my lip and it shoots,
If lucky, crawl home with none of your boots.

"Crawl Home"
Drew Poetry
~Andy Mwalasha

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