I miss my alone times—
where gravity pulls gravid thoughts
down to the bedrock of my solitary land,
where I forage among old pages of deeply buried poems,
scratching invisible marks
into the margins of my arching African poetry.
Alone, I laugh,
wondering what I might have been,
had I never been at all.
My eyes thirst for the ache of moonlight,
while the walls behind me tremble,
their grief laced with silent tears.
But unlike the evicted souls,
I die alone,
long before my moreish smiles are dismantled.
I miss my alone times—
where the vicious whip of Kachikau's winter nights
does not lash me,
where the relentless bells of Chobe's mosquito bites
go unanswered.
I listen only to the music of my lilting brain.
Alone, I am unseen.
Alone, I cannot see you.
Alone, I imagine things
that make sense only to me.
Alone, I own the world.
Alone, I am a victorious victor.
Alone, I never lose.
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Author:
Mpho Leteng (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: January 12th, 2025 05:37
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 21
Offline)
Comments1
A reflection that sometimes time alone can give you a pause from the everyday stresses of life, give you a chance to clear your head. Enjoyed the read
Thank you for your kind words, I am happy you enjoyed the read
You are very welcome
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