The Lament of a Penniless Bloke

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.