A Long Glide
I glide, a heavy, odd glide,
Through a moody weekend,
Its gasps choked, and;
Taste like bitter wormwood.
Fragile hearted, I,
Tears soaked my eye,
A subtle soul rose high,
And still, ended a heavy cry.
I exhaled noxious smog,
My very aura got tainting,
Whatever virtue, I cling,
It's a long glid; I'm strong.
Copyright © Samuel Muuo | Year Posted 2025
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