Matches And Match Sticks Poem by Kondwani Simwaba

Matches and Match Sticks
It's funny! I had a box of match sticks.
And just like any other type of twig sticks.
I played with them in hopes of building some sort of craft work.
What's funny is that I knew from inception how this would work,
Playing with matches made me susceptible to getting burnt.
But men never learn until they actually get hurt.
Especially when your heart's been cold from listening to Omarion's songs,
You'd think you are impervious to whatever flames.
I thought people that get burnt don't handle things tactfully.
I thought I had this tact, fully.
But who was I fooling, building crafts is never a smooth process.
One way or the other you are bound to clash with the match boxes.
And it came, that time of reckoning I knew was impending.
Frictions came and I was set ablaze just like I was expecting.
I got burnt, like plants during a heat wave.
I got burnt like water at a 100 Degrees Celsius.
I got 3rd degrees except none of them were academic.
But still I learnt some indelible lessons, to never play with fire…
#Cryptopoetry
#RhapsodyArts
#KingTMC*