When The Dam Breaks

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I pray this cup is taken away from me
But if I must bear it
If these weary walls collapse and the dam breaks
I’ll invite those I consider closest to come drink with me
From this cup of destruction
Knowing that at the end of it all
When chaos is replaced by calm
Everything will be made whole
And if the faith of those I trust should be blinded
By the weight of this chalice
It will only confirm my suspicions:
You’re the only person I can count on when the dam breaks



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Empty bottles on the ground
Golden brown marshmallows​ on the right end
Of the two luckiest twigs in the world
Roasting over a dying fire
The stars in their millions look on
As we bathe in this glorious September moonlight
Counting days and counting sheep
To the sound of brays and hoots
And in the distance the silent hills stand still
There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be
Than here with you getting high on life
Creating weed scented memories

The World Is Not Enough

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The world is not enough
You need a little bit of heaven
The day is not enough
You need a little bit of night
Living is not enough
You need a little bit of love
Kissing is not enough
You need a warm big hug
Chasing the sun
Nine till five, Monday to Friday
Week after week
It’s a toxic cycle our lives follow
Perfectly carving out a slice of emptiness
When will this end
This weekend, perhaps the next
Even though it’s a short lived thrill
The memories that are born
Whenever our worlds collide
Eclipse the hollowness that is my life

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I’d rather be back home in Mfuwe smoking marijuana
Than waste another minute here
Working my nerve over something I know I can’t fix
Curse the fool who said
It will all make sense when get older
And shame to me for believing him

Of Motorbikes And Life

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Every other Monday I relive my lively weekends with you
The countless hours spent on that dirt road
On that motorbike with you Kissing the wind, flirting with danger Adrenaline junkies screaming like the fools we are
Leaving a trail of dust for the ‘normal’ lovers to follow
You take the bike by the handles
The same way you grab life by the horns
– with rare grace draped in a nonchalant face
Sitting behind you I firmly hold your waist
That illustration itself a metaphor of the trust we share
And so every Monday the countdown
To the next weekend begins

We’re What We Eat

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We are what we eat

Thus some people are sour

Some bitter while others are sweet

There’s those that are attractive

With an even better taste

Then there’s the pretty looking ones

We still love to hate

Just like food some are

A little rough around the edges

Others are pleasing to look at

Like there were cut from cook book pages

Some people are real deep

Like they were made of soul food

Then there’s those that are like junk food

Pretty fun but eventually no good

Like food some drive you to a tempting, unholy urge

Others just cause you to purge

Like food some are hard as stone

Others tender as an ice-cream cone

If you wanna hear about food, wellness and more

Let’s meet at the Health, Wellness and Green Living Market

The 8th of April, 10 am, Foxdale Mall





How To live A Full Life On A Half Full Pocket

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Don’t explain yourself

Take a ride on a motorbike

Take a chance on love

Give into your food cravings

Laugh out loud

Turn down that crappy job

Smell the flowers

Watch a Tim Burton movie

Savour the moment

Disagree with the parents

Listen to old music

Act a fool

Love yourself