Im guilty as charged.....

Most words get spilled, as my intent to be understood, clashes with revealing my purpose too well. Unecumbered by explanations of being an armchair critic. Im not brave, sometimes im shaken by fright, despairing.

That moral clarity, harsh as the winter winds, in smug sardonic sense of reality. The gnawing guilt conscience.



Fledging aspirations of feeding that homeless alcoholic fiend with loose change.

Im guilty, for i need my nicotine fix.

I exist as a gloomy monument to the ills society endeavored to quell.

A pall-bearer among sooth-sayers, whose truth has evolved into a bitter pill to swallow.

This deeds are justified blatant grudges.

Im guilty as charged, please cuff my pen.

Write no more, start revolutions,

perpetuating crimes against humanity.

One word at a time, stopping genocides.

I disgress, refraining to silence the need to vent this fury.

We cant, rise above our highest aspirations or

stoop lower than scum we disdain.

By Lebohang Kuenane ( Lesotho)

photo credits: birthofanewearth.blogspot.com