Written by me,
Written to you,
Written for us –
I am your poetess,
You are my poem,
We are living poetry.
I am your pen,
You are my words,
We are an incomplete manuscript.
I am your ink,
You are my pages,
We are an unfinished book.
I am your vessel,
You are my essence,
We are an ongoing story.
I will not stop writing,
You will not stop inspiring,
We will not stop creating –
Jan 22, 2016
Jan 22, 2016 at 4:18 AM UTC
The words I've lost are too many.
My ignorance has spoken for me too many times.
I no longer feel like a part of myself,
My voice is not my won.
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 3:12 PM UTC
Your love begs the release of this immunity.
You see,despite my growing ******
I remain an oddity.
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 6:38 PM UTC
I've missed this place and it's little yellow box.I've missed the talent and inspiration.I've missed reading till I fell asleep with the phone on my hand but I've missed writing the most!
May 10, 2015
May 10, 2015 at 10:00 AM UTC
Mortal gods stand by,
amused by Africa's cry.
A continent in despair,
its prayers remain
suspended in the air.
Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 8:40 AM UTC
The world has not been
kind to her kind.
Tormented by her mind,
peace she can not find.
History bears witness
to her mental stain.
Told that her skin is a disease,
she scrubs away the pain.
Wounded and forever alone
in this desert terrain.
Hope floods her thoughts
like summer rain.
The red of her blood seeps through her scars,
liquid consolation caressing her skin.
She is human,isn't that enough?
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 7:07 PM UTC
Sculpt these words with the joy of your hard work.
Coulor each sentence with
the crimson of your passion.
Engrave into every detail
the essence of You.
Dedication will be the sweat
you wipe from your brow.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 7:03 PM UTC
Justice is a mask that
eludes the public eye.
Worn by decievers and believers,politicians
and priests,two sides of
the same rusted coin.
Edged on the verge of
truth,lies are spat,votes are cast and offerings are made.
Oblivious sheep,shaving
their own wool.
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 6:43 PM UTC
Slum dreams burn in candle light.
A flicker of hope against the rage of the night.
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 7:53 AM UTC