Homeland
I see around on my home ground,
the fake smile on my red roses,
for they are truly wounded,
with the poison i advatised.
It's the old structure of my grand father,
it was stable when i grew in,
now it is not a shining feather,
as of now is always leaking in,
Old is Gold they used to say,
but mine is a beauty dample i say,
for the cockroaches, mosquitoes and fly,
it is interesting for the acting stars,
Friends makes funny of it,
saying it's peaceful staying in it,
I smile and cry with it,
as my son like it anyway.
It is nit quite anymore,
everything is shouting even more,
Even those i used to adore,
THEY WERE DUMP BUT NOT ANYMORE.
poem by Dickson Mseti
Added by Poetry Lover
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