Sense has one given merit,
When called burden beyond the opposite,
Like a mirror upon embellished pregnancy,
Translates our future work upon vengeance..
A source of love does not recompense,
Its mere existence above future presence,
A lure within a self does not extend the clear,
As sense of significance does not consider my queer,
with where we were.... here.. an ease does fate the volunteer.
Nairobi,31 March,2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem