• mzomuhlemkhabela 47w

    With lots of pain,
    And little hope
    Under the shining
    Eyes of the heavens
    Glitters the questions
    On the key I hold.

    How can I trust,
    When I still picture the bad memories?
    Of trusting someone unworthy.
    When I still twist in the wind
    With the blazing old flames,
    Which gives a train of thoughts.

    If the grounds can be cut
    And the smile be wiped.
    If the hands can be tied
    And words fail me
    Who can hold the rank?

    The heart is a fresh piece of paper
    It has no trust imprints.
    The mind is a question paper
    Which lust reliable,good answers
    For the key of trust to reward marks.

    ©Mzomuhle Mkhabela