deepundergroundpoetry.com

Legacy

This is the art in me, freedom of life to live.

we shaped some clay to play,
with animals we made,
in the river that made loudly voices in caves
it was a small village of peace that waved

I know...
its quite a concealed revelation,
 so to speak
not many have obtained the experience
to seek,
but the privileged ones got weak,
                                              i'm convinced

i'm afraid the young ones,
wont mold a clay like the old ones,
but i'm certain the ones we molded
will become statues unfolded.

 




Written by imbongi
Published
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