Poetry, Tale Africa

Broken Smile

By Timothy Bamwita, Uganda:

A reincarnated creation, I am.

Unfortunately reawakened at the same fort

Only nemeses and dismal strangers surround me.

Solace in estranged old comrades I seek,

But pretense and mockery they exude.

The quaint and enchanted warmth I expected fade away

As fate and misery seem the new reality.

To my maker, I protest.

At my worries and dreams, he laughs

Whilst he smokes away his last fag.

A looming shadow hangs over me

But onto hope, my soul lingers

As I trudge through this ominous darkness – faint hearted.

The future, I remember.

And to it, I walk shamelessly on stilts –

With wounded pride and a broken smile:

Walking into blessed oblivion, I hope –

For optimism drives me and in the wounded pride,

All my energy anchors; in pursuit of a definite resolve.

With distended feet and a discernible weary face,

To a paradise, I shall soon arrive.

Only wry bliss beneath my broken smile

To possibly show for the heavenly specter

As God perhaps wryly smiles back.

That – my soul is where we belong old friend, I say!

 But before that, many rivers to cross, good mate!!! – My soul rejoinders.

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