Story Poem by Thabani Khumalo

Story

Rating: 5.0


Some of the waters over the soils -
Sour as tears seldom seen
Guttering from weeping's never heard,
They tell a story that's clandestine.

Some of the sweat running down my skin
Is somehow the tears I do not shed -
Orders unheeded within my soul;
Hatred and anger having found a home.

Savory is the mercy I do not portray;
Minutes to meetings that I've been to.
Sullen and sorry, so, you have me judged
But, none of my stories are meant for you.

There is a tally within my sores;
Rumors of sorrow succeed this era,
Dimming all destiny: perdifying.
Scrabble my draw-card with marks of pen.

All of the features concealed - not seen,
Scars and the scratches beneath my hair,
They tell a story of who I am but,
None of my stories are meant for you.

Mysteries of history under shades of color
Carry the essence of riverbed gold;
Glitters of credit but buried low...
None of my stories are meant for you.

Monday, June 29, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: story
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Andesikuteb Peter Yamusa 26 December 2015

Very deep thoughts shared

1 0 Reply
Tman Kiry 09 February 2016

i think this guy does not belong in this world with us - the ordinary people. very deep thoughts shared, indeed.

0 0 Reply
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