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Khomotso Makitla Poem
For me life is suppose to be a fight between you and yourself.
A fight to the death, were you’re supposed to push for success.
Only after when you came face to face with your greatest enemy,
Which in this case, the greatest enemy of yourself is yourself.
Sky is the limit only applies to those who are ready conquered life ground up.
Because one step forward is one step to greatness.
Walk with caution and be ready to mitigate the progress-hindering factors,
Because among all things, losing to yourself has a greatest AGONY of them all.
Finding meaning in the art of survival, pushing to thrive in life.
Engaging by means of debating with one’s inner void.
Even if you act to self-preserve what’s left of your own wreckage,
You’ll only find pain stitched with shame no veil can cover.
For when I’m pale I endure, because I’m becoming.
For I know my purpose.©
Copyright © Khomotso Makitla | Year Posted 2025
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Khomotso Makitla Poem
By: Khomotso Makitla
Dear loved one, It’s me your UNREQUITED LOVER.
In hope I hoped that this day never unveil.
As your WHISPERS still roam free in brain, whispers
and hisses of broken promises.
I nearly fumbled to open my heart once more,
But I once trembled on your mountain of lies.
Stone by stone I was there but there I was not,
Piles of those stones turned into a mountain and far i was pushed.
That mountain’s shadow tinted my heart,
For my heart is dark still, and I thought I was tough like steel.
But you’ve shown how easy it is to steal, once vital organ,
And turn it into a hard and cold object.
But I watched as your mountain of lies Mounts and the colder you become.
The shoulder to cry on, turned into the shoulder that made me cry on,
Never believed in cruelty, but that was my reality.
Surely I didn’t believe that rubbles of stones can incline into this shade of,
Darkness, that blind folded me from seeing the majestic hill up front.
That why I like to say fool me once, and like ancient Artifacts you will,
Be the thing of the past. ©?
Copyright © Khomotso Makitla | Year Posted 2025
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Khomotso Makitla Poem
by Khomotso Makitla
Squealing tires on a wet road.
Shattered glass, fragments of once comfort.
Echoes of screams could be heard afar, calling for help.
Those cries began to fade, yet people were closing in.
A helping hand was offered.
Shame and guilt struck, memories of once refusing a hand.
Helplessly, a tear fell.
A tear on the heart,
and sore thoughts on the soul.
Memories came flooding back,
emotions congesting my heart and my mind.
That’s how I collapsed,
my thoughts and emotions trembling as one.
Now my laundry hangs
for the whole world to see.
Help me, for now help I seek.
Keen to speak, for love I know I’m weak.
But now I know,
my emotions, thoughts, and heart
know when it’s time to ask for help
and to hell with love.
Copyright © Khomotso Makitla | Year Posted 2025
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Khomotso Makitla Poem
By Khomotso Makitla
Wake up and smell the flowers,
The sun rises, and with it, the rhythm of feathery friends.
Still breathing the mist in the morning breeze,
With sun rays showering my body one’s self is split in two.
Same body, different personalities.
The projection of myself displayed by a shadow.
From the east where the sun rises, with problems as baggage,
An unforgettable past I remember it follows me around.
On replay, my mind plays.
No memory of mine goes in vain.
Good or vale at midnights, I reminisce.
Demons in my shadow,
Screams of terror at midday only sleep I crave.
As the sun rests, so does my shadow.
The screams disintegrate, and so does my pain.
Copyright © Khomotso Makitla | Year Posted 2025
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Khomotso Makitla Poem
By Khomotso Makitla
Wormholes start small — slow, but sure, they expand.
The magnetic field of your eyes, your smile, your laughter,
Attracts and does not repel — why fight what the heart desires?
The void between us deepened, and now you’re out of reach.
I whisper alone to the stars, hoping they’ll reply.
I reach to the skies, for I know you are a star.
Wishing you could wander through my thoughts —
Navigate my veins with grace, for your touch now stirs my heart.
Be gentle with matters of the heart —
Like the human mind, it has been deceived too often.
Made to believe, only to fall into disbelief.
But trust again — let your heart remember how to love.
Strings of the heart are made of love.
Let the instrument of love lead the way.
Copyright © Khomotso Makitla | Year Posted 2025
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Khomotso Makitla Poem
Indeed, the most successful thief of them all is Death.
All the pain and suffering one has to withstand,
After death has lashed out terror.
All the gallons of tears one has to weep in order to feel calm,
But instead, it only cleared more room for more pain.
Looking inside that wooden-framed structure, face to face with a pale face.
Only memory flashes will be alive, as I will be in a world of my own.
Where death is only a name, but I know all good must come to an end.
“Death, the bride’s mate of all families.”
Till we meet again, as I was robbed of time,
Till we meet again, as the light will shine once again.
Yeah, I’ll miss you, but life is moving forward—so in heaven, pray still,
As I’m still on earth, and death roams free. ©
Copyright © Khomotso Makitla | Year Posted 2025
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Khomotso Makitla Poem
Tears in my eyes, and a tear on my heart.
Fear in my mind, and scars on my soul.
Time moves on, but still are my thoughts,
For I fought for some peace, but life is not still.
I plunged in a pool of angry wavers, seeking justice.
But the honest truth was to evade the truth —
The truth about the jaws of life,
That decide whether you smell tomorrow’s breeze,
Or become tonight’s twilight.
But hope is what drives me still.
Very keen on where the road of life is heading,
For I wish it leads to the promised land at the end of the rainbow,
Where life is full of joy and laughter.
For all my tears to soften those with heavy hearts —
To let them know they are not alone.
For I too was trapped by the jaws of life,
Forced to choose between pain or guilt as a gift.
I now embrace my gift of pain,
Because guilt cuts deeper than the sorrows of life.
Copyright © Khomotso Makitla | Year Posted 2025
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Khomotso Makitla Poem
By: Khomotso Makitla
Wake up and smell the morning mist.
Though the morning offers sunshine and butterflies,
some bring sorrow mourning, I’m mourning.
A lion that hunts its own shadow dies of hunger.
This must be a gift,
being able to fit all my problems in a sealed jar.
Indeed, bottling my pain felt like the best decision
all my emotions numb and dull.
But be careful… I’m fragile.
One crack in the jar,
and screams will echo through the world,
painting it with pain.
Rain, rain, go away
that’s what I tell my tears.
Why do I feel fear, though I’m fearless?
Is my courage just a phase,
a feeling afraid of being caged?
I’m to blame
I paved the way for pain to leave its mark.
I cry a lot,
screaming my lungs out, begging for help.
But I’m a quokka
I smile though my heart is bleeding.
And my knees are proof
that in prayer, I lean.
Even though my life’s rhythm
is out of sync.
Copyright © Khomotso Makitla | Year Posted 2026
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Khomotso Makitla Poem
By: Khomotso Makitla
Day one was the first time.
Meeting the world, at large.
Differences and dependents in abundance.
Breaking out of your shell, was better than walking out.
There's was a lesson to learn on how you shell out.
Tortoise shell protects and kill, once the script is flipped.
You struggle to move, suffocating from within.
Crocodile tears doesn't help, but curls you from the truth.
Moved by eternal grief for longing, and foreshadowing.
Like a paper kite that struggles to float, but sinks
You could feel the weight, weighing, all the air dense.
For a second you feel like voicing out, but all that suffocating has boxed you in.
And like a slave you're caged in, and all your fears comes to life.
Like the sunshine, the beacon
Copyright © Khomotso Makitla | Year Posted 2026
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Khomotso Makitla Poem
By: Khomotso Makitla
I'm deep in my thoughts,
Over thinking is the only reason I'm sane.
I've been trying to overcome all this bad energy.
But at the end, contemplating ways to overcome bad energy,
Is to merge with one.
My reflection is pale, and it's not who I was yesterday.
Waking up to a stranger, Is my new norm.
What is displayed by my mirror, is a contradiction of what my consciousness reminiscences.
The thing I'm now morphing into something.
Is this the person I was meant to be,
Or did situations happen and in me some thing flipped.
I mean why do I feel hallow yet full of thoughts that question my consciousness.
I'm happy, is that even possible?
Or I'm i just trying so hard to numb what my feelings already grasped.
Is it normal to find peace in sleep,
Only by being caressed and lullabies is by then I can see peace.
Happiness is just an excuse, to fool you from what's actually happening around you.
Copyright © Khomotso Makitla | Year Posted 2026
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