I have reached a spot where I did not want to go
at the end of the day...
tears, birthing a poem, so common
the melodramatic is always the inspiration behind...
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...
power is the God of this planet
no immortal benevolent being, to save the day...
without waves the sea becomes a pond
the moon retired...
the ability to connect and communicate
governors who we are...
I have paid my dues
a life of privilege, three good meals per day...
time will always resist a rewind, no do overs...
it’s a one-shot game, you have to take the shot...
Have I lost me?
as a single mother of three...
I know how to end,
The life of a mockingbird...
You can not cover
Who you really are, over...