Bob
the dry rain of memorycovers the mirror of the heart
with the swirling dust
of lives already lived
in the desert of whimpering winds
spiritual nomads search in vain
for a singing saviour
to share their pain
while long passed poets
roll over in their tombs
blinded by anguish
and hiding their shame
Poetry by Wumbulu
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Written on 2017-10-19 at 12:24




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