Sins do vanish,
luck holds blemish,
what hath night done?
Wake up smell thy sun,
coloured shadows doth,
like wrapping in cloth.
Oh, ye sweet moocher,
cursed rusty heart vulture,
brittle struggles yolden,
yot thy hearts golden,
thou careless author,
thee indite a rethor.
"Brittle Struggles"
Drew Poetry
~Andy Mwalasha
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
-
I was once as clean as a newly hatched chic's beak, but you turned me into hell's doormat. Misery's doorbell on pain's bunke... -
I will take you to the Atlantic coast in, Virginia, Will you be my 'Puella' my sweet, sweet Latina? Ride on the sand in a cherry... -
There are numerous ways for one to express his/her emotions, feelings and even convey messages and communicate. One of the most used ways ...
No comments:
Post a Comment