Raindrops

 These blows, are they falling from heaven?

They burn my cheeks without mercy:

I thought matters of the inner atom are glossy.

My sound captors have heard of haven:

I have been thinking that love is a caravan

But when raindrops fall, all becomes messy:

And it is when they take me on a hearse.

Oh! Why are you so craven?

Eroded cheeks possess no time to be found.

Your yellow skin was supposed to be my sun.

It is to your soul that I was bound.

But I at times wonder why time brought a gun.

Time has chosen to behave like a hound.

This one here is not a sweet bun.

Copyright © 2015 by Ponatshegelo Mista Poke Katlholo

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