...by Poetic Tee "Here, take a sip"
Tsunami '05 triggered Kay's labour
SE Asia, do you remember the time?...
Devastation of souls, followed tremor'
Millions worth of loss, to the last dime.
As pain belted its arms around earth
Hearts touched, opted to make a mark
Tears, lamentations painted piece of gory art
What can one rich in lacking offer, but lack?
But wouldn't hear of it, two pulsating beat'
Care, concern, comfort became adamant
Squeezing the last drop of me on a street
Which grows into a wave, bigger, pregnant.
Can you or can't
As fear of failure gripped
May be it's just a mere rant
As confidence wobbled, tripped.
"How can minute turn massive?
Oh no! And who has a lifetime?"
So they chose dormancy, passive
Wallowing in waste, their pastime.
Yet one grows to two to mo'
Soon multiple gives, multiply
Hope drenched, rose, soared
As danced by, a colorful butterfly.
Discovered something amazing...
The poor gives mo' than the rich
Trust me, it's not a lie trail blazing
Just hard fact, a scratch to an itch.
Not to worry, give or be given
But be not of those blocking
That which will take to heaven
When help need comes knocking.
One coin might be nothing
But not if made of pure gold
Giving's not in amount given
It's in the spirit thereof, I'm told.
So let's engage in a Kwandala strife
Which is not about you, your wants
But for others. So "Give a coin for life"
For a better tomorrow, good seeds plant.
(c)2016 Tijjani M. M.
All Rights Reserved
Tsunami '05 triggered Kay's labour
SE Asia, do you remember the time?...
Devastation of souls, followed tremor'
Millions worth of loss, to the last dime.
As pain belted its arms around earth
Hearts touched, opted to make a mark
Tears, lamentations painted piece of gory art
What can one rich in lacking offer, but lack?
But wouldn't hear of it, two pulsating beat'
Care, concern, comfort became adamant
Squeezing the last drop of me on a street
Which grows into a wave, bigger, pregnant.
Can you or can't
As fear of failure gripped
May be it's just a mere rant
As confidence wobbled, tripped.
"How can minute turn massive?
Oh no! And who has a lifetime?"
So they chose dormancy, passive
Wallowing in waste, their pastime.
Yet one grows to two to mo'
Soon multiple gives, multiply
Hope drenched, rose, soared
As danced by, a colorful butterfly.
Discovered something amazing...
The poor gives mo' than the rich
Trust me, it's not a lie trail blazing
Just hard fact, a scratch to an itch.
Not to worry, give or be given
But be not of those blocking
That which will take to heaven
When help need comes knocking.
One coin might be nothing
But not if made of pure gold
Giving's not in amount given
It's in the spirit thereof, I'm told.
So let's engage in a Kwandala strife
Which is not about you, your wants
But for others. So "Give a coin for life"
For a better tomorrow, good seeds plant.
(c)2016 Tijjani M. M.
All Rights Reserved
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