Thursday, 2 March 2017


I can't make love. My heart's castrated,
If life is a play, then ours is cast - rated.
Am I not the person, you'd anticipated?
For God's sake, I came. Am I accepted?

The stare in your eyes is cold; mockery.
Spice up the sour and bitter; more curry.

If your kitty scratches then please rub it.
Bunnies don't scratch,
you can have my rabbit.

The failure at luck ruined the master bet, 
Failure, at love baked in some self - hate,
First, make self-love, your most inner pet.
No perfect pair? Let's make a perfect set!

"A Perfect Set"
Drew Poetry
 ~Andy Mwalasha


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