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June 2015


Rotting from the inside, I’m sure the stench has got you wondering, “what happened?”
How do you deteriorate undercover?
How do you look fine but feel as if you’re dying?
Well, I’m melting from the core,
I’m certain you can find evidence of suffering, dripping from every corner of the fake smile …

I blame it on the poetry,
I blame it on every fragment of every word I’ve every written.
Pen to paper, paper to blog, blog to paper, paper to depression.
I smile while I voluntarily die
And mystery majestically dines
Abandonment for the plain and broken.
With every motion of my pen, I fall victim to further decay:
And if my poetry is to blame,
Then it’s a pain I’m more than willing to endure.

© 2015 Phumelele Kubeka
University of Pretoria
Pretoria, Gauteng

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