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megacreative poetry crew personified by poetic devices (we the best exploring poetry industry) Words that doesn't sound strange to any ear, words that can be called one poem heals all.
Listen to these words made from punchlines and their cousins figure of speeches immaturity fall.
Blessed are the ones listening to the poem written by the hands that got the touch of the situation.
Megacreative Poetry Crew (Personified by poetic devices) Rocking back n fourth whining side to side into the bigger picture of literature as big as the important use of rhymes in a poem brews and cooks magic.
The magic that is the ear bud to your ears.
The magic that is infused with words that are born from soothing figure of speeches that's their mothers.
We heal with metaphors.
When the pain comes again it won't be like before.
The wise doesn't just spit but before that you got to be sure.
It's sad how they don't want to learn wisdom but when you do you are labelled as the biggest flop.
One's life is not like an influenza, you can't always have chest pains and cough.
As it will move you it doesn't hurt to dream of being on a cover page of Forbes.
Ofcourse, morden men doesn't shove wives with chores.
With words, the mind and soul resasitation.
Holding the mic to melt the written punchlines on the blessed pages, you got to love such situation.
Wisdom shows up just as we throw words on the white surface with red lines like a sangoma throwing bones on a mat created through tradition.
For us write words that unlocks wisdom to your mind that's as entertaining as theatre.
Poetry is alive in us.
Water it, ignoring such soothing words into your soul it will be as peace destroying as a witch.
Just as we play around the pages with a pen its the first stage to one's life changing, but as we spit words Personified by poetic devices Rocking back n fourth , whining side to side one is healed. Megacreative Poetry Crew  (personified by poetic devices)

I had so many options
Sleeping pills in my hand
Evil thoughts in my head
Sangoma's mixed potions
A rope hanging on top of my head
I could have rolled down the stairs
Or took a knife and stabbed it into my chest
But I couldn't.
My mother cried when she gave birth to me
I can't watch her cry at my funeral
I thought of what she always say to me
That "I hate how I raised you,but I love what I raised"
That I should do better for my daughter
And not yet be her ancester.

Don't make me your case,
Stop being my judge.
Just give me some space,
And I won't hold no grudge.
You gave me war and I wasn't tough,
I need some peace.
I think I have had enough,
my heart is still in pieces.
No man with a toolkit can mend or fix me
Not even a body stretch or a waist bend or a
text can comfort me.
No doctor or sangoma can stop the bleeding,
Unlike the South African Flag, the red on my
Flag represents the Blood Shed of the love I
kept giving,
to You.
Go away
Voetsek!
Put yourself on display
Klusek
My mind is in pain,
I cannot abuse myself with such thoughts
There's very little to gain
Except useless fights
I don't miss you
I don't need you
I don't care about you
Do I love you?

The poet is a sangoma
throwing bare-bones words that
uncover occult
universes where they
land.

megacreative poetry crew personified by poetic devices (we the best exploring poetry industry) Words that doesn't sound strange to any ear, words that can be called one poem heals all.
Listen to these words made from punchlines and their cousins figure of speeches immaturity fall.
Blessed are the ones listening to the poem written by the hands that got the touch of the situation.
Megacreative Poetry Crew (Personified by poetic devices) Rocking back n fourth whining side to side into the bigger picture of literature as big as the important use of rhymes in a poem brews and cooks magic.
The magic that is the ear bud to your ears.
The magic that is infused with words that are born from soothing figure of speeches that's their mothers.
We heal with metaphors.
When the pain comes again it won't be like before.
The wise doesn't just spit but before that you got to be sure.
It's sad how they don't want to learn wisdom but when you do you are labelled as the biggest flop.
One's life is not like an influenza, you can't always have chest pains and cough.
As it will move you it doesn't hurt to dream of being on a cover page of Forbes.
Ofcourse, morden men doesn't shove wives with chores.
With words, the mind and soul resasitation.
Holding the mic to melt the written punchlines on the blessed pages, you got to love such situation.
Wisdom shows up just as we throw words on the white surface with red lines like a sangoma throwing bones on a mat created through tradition.
For us write words that unlocks wisdom to your mind that's as entertaining as theatre.
Poetry is alive in us.
Water it, ignoring such soothing words into your soul it will be as peace destroying as a witch.
Just as we play around the pages with a pen its the first stage to one's life changing, but as we spit words Personified by poetic devices Rocking back n fourth , whining side to side one is healed. Megacreative Poetry Crew  (personified by poetic devices)

Africa is a pile of riches
Guarded by children and cattle
Africa is an ode to rainfall
Powerful like a bolt
A shack in the wind
A diamond rough under red sand
The tender bokkie ambles in the acacia bush
The old world polite smile
The colonial angst of peril and ***
The dark maiden’s passive zest
The white man’s arid humour
The languid sangoma
Who sings through the metallic fields
The barking zebra whose stripe
Like a lollipop struts its heals
and the insects who cluster
around every square inch of earth