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 Sep 2019
Grace Thaba
I sit here and think of our little conversations
Your smile got me thinking of a thousand things but my everlasting loneliness
Lonely hours pass me by, and all I can think of is the face of a man perfectly sculpted to release the joy in my heart
Your presence makes my heart skip faster than the early train of Johannesburg
The smell of your cologne takes my mind to places far beyond where we are
I dream of you, I dream of blues
The sound of your voice is like sweet melodies sang by birds of praise
The touch of your skin on mine makes me forget of the existence of pain and sorrow
Within you I find happiness, within you I find a better me
When I dream of you, I dream of blues

— The End —