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Tafadzwa Matamba Poems
The Sweet Dreams.
Was it at all to me clear That l was gonna shed a tear? Maybe my gut mumbled and l turned a deaf ear; All l wanted was to hold you near
When I Am Sad
I have the urge to be mad; Mad at any one who dares me Each time l am down and sad. When l am sad the world with another eye l see;
The rays will some day shine, In her lonely life wrapped in misery. The pain and sorrow will be gone, It will be a forgotten story.
A hopeful look in the eyes; I look forward to a better tomorrow, Filled with only but joy and no tears; And there will be none such as all this sorrow.
These Are The Days
From a very deep slumber arise! To a morning that is cold; A condition l so much despise, Yet still l have to be bold_
A night so dark! The silence is frightening; I am just but stuck And have stopped walking.
O, My Dearest Friend!
My heart cries out for you, As l recall it all: The troubles you are swimming in, And your heart that is sore.
The books l have read, The faces l have seen; The places l have been to_ And the joys that l have known
The Feeling Again.
It is close to noon; The feeling had disappeared, Mysteriously like the moon_ Yet here again it has reappeared!
When My Time Has Come!
When my time has come and l am gone, When everything about me has been said and done; Weep then at all not darling for me! For the sun again l shall not see;
The Full Moon
I can't see it; Yet l feel it so strongly, Hiding behind the clouds!
Death Took My Forward!
How could l ever forget of you? Oh my dear Forward! All the days that together we knew! Several years by have passed,
On Thanksgiving day it shone brightly And the following day it disappeared; Lately, the mornings had become cooler and so had the nights; The squirrels seemed to get busier and hurried,
Comments about Tafadzwa Matamba
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Edgar Allan Poe
(19 January 1809 - 7 October 1849)
(31 May 1819 - 26 March 1892)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
The Sweet Dreams.
Was it at all to me clear
That l was gonna shed a tear?
Maybe my gut mumbled and l turned a deaf ear;
All l wanted was to hold you near
For to me you were only but dear!
Your flirting romance saw me in cloud nine
I believed that all your love was mine
How so wrong l was as now l have to start anew!
It is plain that with me you are through
And l have to forget of you.
I know dreams do come true;
But these sweet dreams about you
Of the days and pleasures we once knew
That l wake up from each night makes me blue,
And l was such a fool to ...