poetry
In this dry city of ours,
all we inhale is dust soaring in the air!
all we step on are the crunches of dry leaves!
all i see dry grass
all that i see are skin born animals with no water to quench their thirst
everything is in helter-skelter
in this try city of Kampala
Wonderful poem you have here, whenever I come across a poem that touches me I always wish I also have the talent in me to write a good poem. I don't know if you can put me through writing of a poem.
@fastfingers loves you. Keep on steeming
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