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Life Has No Title.
The feelings i carry in my heart,
makes me worry to stay put,
sometimes i do hurry before i could forget,
that life needs a warrant to check the heart.
I ask myself before i say sorry,
then i realize not until July,
that I'll be accepted truly,
before i become hoary.
someone gave me homily,
to change my thought into holy,
though i received it honorary,
i remained staying hopefully.
just remaining hopefully,
is realizing it personally,
that the only thing I'll imply,
is creating incendiary.
i like thinking indefinitely,
but life stays definitely,
i should judge it correctly,
and make ourselves intermediary.
poem
by
Dickson Mseti
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