An Illusions Poem by Kenneth Boitshepo
An Illusions
Everything I behold,
Forever it is gold.
Striving to find somthing so pure,
My troubling eyes has no cure.
Everything I hath never last,
My bliss bust badly,
Now narrowness cover me up,
I no more want to hath anything.
My love is of devine,
True fondness I design,
'I love you'she mime.
So sad love is blind.
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5/1/2024 7:51:06 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Very good poem Tshepo.Thanks for sharing