MY BLUE HEART

The sky looked really blue As my red blood shed for you I am sad and blue The colours of me Are in the Autumn spree My sore heart is free Changes, seasons apart Sadness in my blue, blue heart Seasons, days apart

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RESILIENCE OF THE BURCHELL’S

As Ntatemogolo finished his sentence, he looked down to see that the herd had reached the edge of the dried Lake Makgadikgadi. With his hoof he scratched the sandy river bed and felt pride well up in his heart. It was always amazing to him that even with very little and with even less water, the herd had come as far as it had. It was not as if there were millions and millions of Zebra and on the grand scheme of things, they did not possess that much wealth. But somehow regardless of obstacles, the herd had put the good of the tribe above personal, selfish gain and worked toward uplifting the herd.

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I GAVE

I loathe the day I set eyes on you and foolishly gave you the inner most part of me Like a child who eagerly shared, I gave and gave I haemorrhaged emotion and sacrifice and gave and gave Foolishly, I gave and gave Just the other day I wondered why I felt so hollow As…

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