Tired of fighting
Haven’t hugged in a while
Held a pen in hand
Hold your horses
No need to jump to conclusions
The are no issues between us
Just haven’t been in the mood
Felt like allowing a pen to disect me like a frog
Cos sometimes a pen in the wrong hand
Becomes a weapon
Behaves like a scalpel
Exposing my insides
Spilling my guts in black and white
Reminding you of your short comings
Your most embarrassing moments
Humiliating myself for your convenience
So when we clash
Stay clear of the battle zone
My pen and I have a hostile, volatile relationship
Like Dorothy Moore and her ex
With pen in hand
I am a warrior
A knight on a chess board
My pen and I
Two foes fighting a common enemy
Drawing identikits of the truth
My pen and I are highly flammable at times
We are on fire
Illuminating darkness

knox mahlaba
Copyright © 2016
Author of Back From The Dead: The Rising of an African Spirit


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