Strife
I look ugly and sombre
reflected in the gay
mirror,abashed,
a misplaced creature,
of raging strife
whose soul howls a burning
cry.
A crescendo of gripping fears
threatens to engulf me
I stand with conscious
barrenness
gnawing me,
shameless tears mocking me.
The chaotic future lures me
netting me with glittering
dreams,
hopeful desires
while I with a pregnant mind
stumble back to the cradle of
clutching rags.
Copyright © Mapulemla C Imsong | Year Posted 2010
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