Time flew effectively well.
And the pride of man restored indeed.
The journey has been embezzled by hope.
The poet stood on his writing consign, 
With the belief that one day, his mind and pen
Will speak the melody of his dreams, 
His poetry seeks a home to dwell.
And his mind contented with love to feed. 
Nobody wills to read his outlook and cope.
Nobody sing and dance unto his assign.
But still he trust that, with the honor of the ten-
Commandments, he shall stand with his arms-
High in the sky with delight,
For, his mind will soon see the light. 


© Aubrey Mgwenya

day 3 | 21 July 2011