I have been printing for thousands of miles
To conquer my endless starvation
For the one and only rose of my broken heart
Until I found you and put you in my arms
Life remains cruel for a lone traveler
I have been out in cold nights
I am still on this rocky dusty road
Still I face up the hills and down the valleys
Thorns know my bare feet
My feet have befriended thorns
My throat grows sore singing
Your name, Sada, has never left my lips
Am I losing sight?
My eyes are blurred on this dusty road
Aren't you going to call me home?
Or do I need a face lift and a better expression?
Or should I cry out to the world?
Comments about this poem (Sada by Chiraka Muhura )
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