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Praying for Menopause
I invented a smile, when the water broke
beneath the pain of labour, joy found a hold
A gift, dearly worthy more than silver and gold
I dreamt a variation of futures with colour
Painting soft strokes on the canvas of prospects
A distant future, seen through a microscopic scope of preconceived aspirations
My doctor, my lawyer, my teacher, such exuberant expectations
Alas! just a few moons, earth recalls to be one with its element
Why give?, to only take
Why build?, if only to break
Why chance a remake?, just to reclaim
One, two, three, four
A roll call of my seeds, no more.
Copyright ©
Steven Mwakatundu
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