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© Written by Benedixio Moore Khoti

Like flowers quickly fading...

Like hopes dissipating into shades of despair

Will my dreams brutally wither?
Will the falter and fall flat on their back
while they dart far and wide, left and right
corners of the earth
hiking hooks of favor or luck.

Will my beautiful dreams
ever flaming with desire
grow weary and rusty as old age?

Will their melodious tune
sour into a sombre dirge
or simply come to be a cliché like an adage.

Will these dreams of mine

buzzing like bee
sail with the sea...?

Will they battle the savage tides
of rough waters
and drift ashore...

Or will they soar
with the wind
and get blown into a realm unbeknownst to man...

Will this ebb and flow -
shimmer like show
ever halt and stall?

Will the rivulet of ideas
rioting in my head
ever dry
and my frolicsome smile fade into a cry

when my tears of joy
get lost in the rain
and sunshine gets stolen from my eye,
when the heap of my goals
scamper and scatter to hide
where hands of hope can never reach...

Now I ponder and wonder
if my dreams are a blessing or curse
just in case
I suppose stop and pause
for a quick dose of self assurance.

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