We’re almost in the middle of this year’s Poetry Month and it has been a struggle coming up with anything truly good but here’s a peek into something I wrote for day 5.
What if nothing had to die at the hands of our thoughts?
And purpose was born of a breath’s touch on a withering dream?
What if discombobulation was a gift,
insight into the secret of all love?
What if the elusive definition of truth
lay trapped in voyages left untaken,
embers put out by waiting,
eras not permitted to begin?
What if thirst was meant to survive
and Safe was the wicked witch
that drowned the princess in comfort?
Image: Pixabay
Poem: All Rights Reserved | Copyright © Tebogo Ndlovu
Poetry Month continues on Instagram as we speak. If you’d like to take a look: @theamateurshome. Feel free to leave your handle in the comments if you’re participating.
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