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Death In My Hands
Hellow, i took a pen to write a story,
the story that seemed scary,
but liked by those bully,
Now they want another story,
The story that gave them money,
money that brought them honey,
the honey that made them hurray,
Now am a wanted as i refused,
the story came from my brain,
which accereleted to my hand,
decorated with my pen,
through my fascinating fingers,
poem
by
Dickson Mseti
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