The Dream Worker
When Lights and angels desert the streetsshe camps under a post of an old lamp
searching the old alley, for new foes and allies.
In camouflage make-up and stiletto heels
she looks dangerously delicious.
Long ago she lost her path and cries
but, she says to the winds and the skies;
if broken clocks will ever be right again
dreams, not born through these nights
will be right again.
Poetry by Samuel Mugambi
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Written on 2013-10-16 at 22:38
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by Samuel MugambiLatest textsThe sound of...Dear Cecilia. Deck of Cards Doomed. The Dream Worker |
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