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Puseletso Mosamane Poem
If time were a gift
I would open it like the Christmas kind
with smiles, laughter, and joy
but still, I would make a wish, as if Santa would answer,
I would wish to change something
Perhaps my siblings' fate
I would tell her young self to love less
I would be a bit rude to her, so that
she may learn that love is not of existence
I would erase the word love from
her completely
and maybe then, when I come back, she wouldn't be fooled by it
by its wrapped, faded beauty
and somehow we could still be friends
and I could still call her sister
and maybe she will learn from her memories
that even hurt can be for the better.
For as long as her breath brushes my ear like a breeze,
for as long as she is alive, her existence will forever be the greatest gift.
Copyright © Puseletso Mosamane | Year Posted 2025
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Puseletso Mosamane Poem
There is so much I would love to change
I think about it all the time
with a bit of regret
believing I could have taken the pen and written,
then perhaps the story would have changed
Now that time has locked me into a loop
I'd step back to that day when my eyes felt blurry
first, I would look at the baby photos
remembering in the future, they had burned down like old love letters,
from a soldier who died in battle,
fragile like they were never meant to be lost, like they deserved a different fate
I would whisper to younger me
I would tell her, wake mommy up
and I would say this with tears
remembering how she had turned into ashes
And hopefully, when time finally closes its loop
I would wake up with a better tomorrow
with her voice singing my favorite lullaby
with the smell of her scent that I never seemed to forget
and in every embrace afterward,
I would hold her tighter.
Copyright © Puseletso Mosamane | Year Posted 2025
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Puseletso Mosamane Poem
Puseletso
Young, scared, enthusiastic, thoughtful, curious
Obsessionist of K-dramas, lover of poetry.
Copyright © Puseletso Mosamane | Year Posted 2025
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Puseletso Mosamane Poem
I was told I was many things
and yet no one asked what I felt like in my own body
they said those stretched marks on my belly,
made me manly
They said my ears were pointy, almost inhuman
and for the first time, I wasn't offended
infact I agreed
maybe that's why I ran to women instead
they understood better, I said
never knew it was called love
well not in that kind of way,
till I saw her undress, and I felt a sense of admiration, sensation, as if I didn't have the same body
and for a while, I questioned myself
for having these thoughts towards her
and yet my mind seemed to be drawn to her, I wondered if it was love
but how could I look her in the face
and say I'm in love with her
And maybe I didn't need permission
to love her the way I did
It just had to show through the way I listened,I spoke
In the way my attention shifted to her eyes
like I was enthralled by a painting
but she was my landscape, no bad thoughts, just pure love, I said
Then I realized it wasn't just her, I looked that way,
that I enjoyed the touch of a woman
like would a man
And for a while I looked at myself in the mirror
wondering if this is who I really was
if it was possible for a woman to remember another's figure and explain it so vividly
not just that, but the kind who failed to remember her own brother's features
I wondered if it was wrong to wear hoodies and biggies and never a dress
even when going to church
I wondered if I had failed my own mother
for all she spoke about was marriage
though not specific, I doubt she would think of a woman
And yet that didn't stop me
from buying a woman flowers
they didn't mean much to me
guess it was just my body that's a woman and not my mind and soul
I liked romanticizing the thought of it.
Copyright © Puseletso Mosamane | Year Posted 2026
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Puseletso Mosamane Poem
Freed, I am now from what I thought was a destiny
A prison that kept me down
A wall I thought was unbreakable
But now lies before me
Like a thousand shattered pieces
Wounded hands, but now a sign of freedom
A story I could tell to younger generations
Flashbacks, screams, cries
But now what we call history
Freedom shines at me like the sunlight
The torture, the beatings, a story from the past
Strings of a puppet were cut
Free, I am now, says the voices echoing in my head.
Copyright © Puseletso Mosamane | Year Posted 2026
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Puseletso Mosamane Poem
2025,
oh wish I could say you were perfect,
but with the weight in my heart,
and this tears that fall tremendously,
I fail to say so,
how I wish you would have been even a little easy on me,
easy with the pain,
with the disappointmets,
easy with the losses ,
then perhaps I would still laugh,
still I'm glad that I made it into this year broken but alive,
you were not the best but in you came out reflections,
phases,
and you taught me self love,
2026 please come lighter,
brighter and the most important happier.
Copyright © Puseletso Mosamane | Year Posted 2025
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Puseletso Mosamane Poem
They place their storms in my shaky hands
stitched,tied and yet useful
Broken is I.
And for a while even the moon dims
no stitch is ever tied enough;
the loose threads forever stay
Copyright © Puseletso Mosamane | Year Posted 2026
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Puseletso Mosamane Poem
I hate growing up
I hate decisions
They're scarier than the monsters
I used to fear when young
they grow with you; they increase
they haunt you
and worse, there is a right or wrong
consequences, mistakes that could ruin your whole future
guess growing up isn't about a driver's license
it's responsibility, like it's something you have learned
it's caring about others even if it means being in silence
it looks so easy on TV, like it's just another step on the stairs
maybe I watched the wrong movies,
it's more like jumping off a plane and hoping you would survive,
in the sea with the salty water till whenever
So would I go back if I could?
YES, without a doubt, a thought
maybe it was better making faces with clay
maybe it was easier spending the day on a swing, and getting a slight headache
and even then someone was there to nurse you
Yes, life is not easy, and it has never been fair
Copyright © Puseletso Mosamane | Year Posted 2026
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Puseletso Mosamane Poem
I was tying my shoes
Wrapped with thoughts of death
Wondered if the stone beneath me
Would appreciate the human dire
Splashed over it like ketchup
And no, it wasn’t thoughts of suicide
For I know death is not really what I want
Maybe I do write letters sometimes
About my last day on this ground,
but they're just words caused by pain
And yet I can’t help but wonder
If murderers do feel fear when they kill
I wonder if the sin of lying is equal to killing
Copyright © Puseletso Mosamane | Year Posted 2026
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Puseletso Mosamane Poem
There’s a kind of power in my failure.
Like a bell that always rings inside me.
Not too loud, but at the same time,
its echo feels like a song teaching me
that failure is but a phase.
It makes the world unpredictable.
It rings when I fall,
as if it's a sign I will rise.
It rings when I cry.
Yet when I hold a pen and paper
and write my pain out,
it barely makes a sound ,
like a bell too shy to ring.
So, I let it ring in its own time,
like it always gives me a chance to be me.
Yet on those days it rang,
it showed me that I was here,
and made me turn failure into a song,
a melody that lingers, uninvited yet welcomed.
Copyright © Puseletso Mosamane | Year Posted 2026
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