I'm Stitching My Chest Poem by Mbusya Wa Mbusya
I'm Stitching My Chest
I'm stitching chest with brass,
the piece of strip like cutlass,
blades that cut my heart,
In moments of acting gut;
nothing is easy,
even the happy days
I still hear the noise,
feet running after mice,
when I'm a mile down the road,
watching boys catch fish in a toad.
Friday, January 11, 2019
Topic(s) of this poem: warning
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5/8/2024 2:47:59 AM # 1.0.0.1119
Feet running after mice, meaningful