Poetry Bulawayo

The winds of change have blown over my fragile soul And left a withered kernel of hope for days to come. Forget a rainy day. For those have come and gone. I am looking forward to the dry, scorching hot desert days. Only from them can I learn that there is an oasis awaiting me. I want to drink. I want to quench. I want to drench. To soothe the forgotten bulb in the dry soil of my bruised past. I want to eat. I want to fill . I want to feed The forgotten cub of my African Pride, Battered and left for dead in the grasslands of domination. The clouds of hope are gathering over my crushed spirit And are promising rains of healing and growth. I am a mound of clay, Longing for skilled potters’ hands. I am moist and ready to be molded by the wisdom Of my forefathers and those that have overcome the mystery of life. I want to sing. I want to dance. I want to strum The strings of chaos and confusion that plague my future. I want to clap. I want to percuss. I want to bang T...

Watered with seen words of spoken braille Felt with tongues of touch As the water cleansed my heart Washed away the hurt and deceit Purified waters transformed to growth... Where my feelings for you grew and fed with a bright smile As qualities such as hope, trust and love blossomed from this heart Where the roots of friendship sailed to caring patience and were instilled I woke up and realised there's no such! Watered with lies and echo promises Where the emptiness repeats itself Of which grew as the roots of hurt and deceit held on tight Where final touches blossomed and I knew you were gone... As the seed to my heart was never planted After all, love is all I ever wanted...