In the Village

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  • Family

    In the Village
    Life is extremely hard
    Full of miseries
    That I could not add
    All of my cries

    Friends are numerous
    Together we have good time
    But enemies are so furious
    That I cannot resonate to life’s rhyme

    I do not worried for money
    For it matter least
    But for fruits and honey
    For it’s what I feast

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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    Abwino’s Poems (4)

    Title Comments Submitted
    Title Comments Submitted
    My Sunflower 0 02/27/2009
    In the Village 0 02/23/2009
    Lullaby 1 02/02/2009
    My Ways 1 01/29/2009
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