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Terror

He made me look at my insecurities with braveness His hands of abuse could not scare me So, I kept quiet and only gave him an eye and said a short prayer while his voice went over the roof top as he shouted to impress those who were watching Little did he know that I survived I survived terror, trauma and a worst deal of pain At that very minute nothing could hurt me more than he could My fear became my strong point! My laughter at heart was giggles having a deep eye interaction conversation with a monster His hormones were not at a steadiness but in rage His voice was more certain than the loud music I used to be played and all my myth became my truth At that moment he became a published book of bad errors and mistakes with a poor grammar This was so rare to me that his desirable rage was filled with hurt and that it could be academically awarded a medal for a movie displaying right in front of my eyes A rare me was more certain than desirable to see nakedly how the devil looks in soul He was terror, trauma and a great deal of pain but I could not break but survive Poet Masego Nkuna

Copyright © | Year Posted 2019




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Book: Shattered Sighs