By Norman Mwale [The PenPusher]
The reason l smile at you,
l want this possession to control lnfluence
So l have to dissemble my persona and Wear a masquerade of promises of Charm
So you can see in my eyes
The rainbow that withstands the storm,
If you scrutinize the scope of my lmaginations,
You would have seen my prowess Through desirable promises and abstract Theories
Which are barren to hypotheses of Pragmatism,
I am talking of those long told stories
Which never sidestep political lips,
Where l put you to sleep and dream
Of illusionary world of accomplished Promises;
I will open highways in the sky that you
Ply as you snor lying on fetor blankets in Narrow Apartments!
And puncture the white clouds so you Plough and harvest bread and butter,
I will dine with you in trash, out on the Cold bitting and sweltering streets,
In motels during seasons of bleeding
And overhealing,
My promises will water your dreams with
Pain on sitting in authority
Then promised promises melt like dew!
With my once impeccant face awaiting Attack in ambush!
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