THE LAMENT OF A PENNILESS BLOKE
For want of avocation, I became a poet
To bleed my misery on paper calling for an eye,
To see me in my tattered footwear and backless shirt,
But no hear have I got even with my wildest cries.
I sought for love but that eluded me for lack of capacity,
To wine and dine in places only people in purple afford,
Ask me not to write to you as I cannot read later on write,
The tongue twisting speech style I have not learned
Of me they think I have no fashion sense.
How can I when dolce & Gabbana is a name I only see
In chanced movies with people that woo lovers and hunks.
Intelligence have I none; wisdom maybe
But that cannot lure a sensible Tiffany-ier
All I have is me; about me I cannot lie.
Copyright © July 2012. Nsamu Moonga. All right Reserved.