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Oct 2017
We always avoid meeting ourselves,
Morning alarms alerting us to be ourselves.

Talent extic, fossil buried in our bodies.
Watching it resurrect every morning,
To die again when the world look at
what we are and tell us we are not
And we believed.

When I come back home
I visited mirror again,
Words turned bullet,
What will I say happened to my face,
Why is my finger still has no ring on it,

What's the snow in my head, wait!
Am I aging or its just side effects of rejection,
"But you told that they can understand the man I am.

So why are we talking to each other again?"
Bongani 'Malambule' Sibanyoni
Written by
Bongani 'Malambule' Sibanyoni  25/M/South Africa
(25/M/South Africa)   
   Harriet Cleve
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