can you not see, when your eyes are closed...
siting in the sun on an old done for couch
soaking up a high veld, winters day...
the ability to connect and communicate
governors who we are...
sperm is a legacy in transit
the space between words, filled with speculation...
some-times we need to fall on the ground,
to appreciate the view...
So many lives
Try’s...
Sorrowful trees,
Sallow and Yew...
When Will We Wake Up?
I am So tire, Tire Of Racism...
I found endless youth.
However, the sun burns my skin...
Different birds were on the branches,
Every tree in their path is lined up...
Too long, too alone.
Oh! Like time is strange weather...
See Dark skin just mean more sun block,
it got absolutely nothing to do with 'Races...