The City Of Gold Poem by Anele Potelwa (Unpublished)

Known for its brightness pity,
The nitty-gritty of street lives whose love is dirty,
With all kinds of opportunities flowing in the atmosphere,
That kinds of miseries are bouncing in the poetic spheres,

With santry the noise of money pounding in beats,
Yet tears of failure dropping in splits,
The golden city of gold,
Makes my goals and ambitions even more bold,
As violence upswings, souls end up being sold,
And the innocent households are left in cold,

Yes! Oh Yes!
The load of this life burned to be alive with possibility,
But decisive thoughts are in cecity to sustainability,
And to our self-animosity we all urbanized,
But now goes mendicants to the lands of the mordenised,
The place were leaders and builders are made,
But love, life and success tend to fade,

It could be a lenient versatile stage of a different culture,
But stays to be the weapon to build and destroy my future,
Some fo there and never come back,
And white hearts are now black,
The city of gold,
Pity I was never told