To Sibongile Shoko S ometimes, thou art too hot on me W ell, the heat intends to warm me E ven He ought to scorch me, if for that i condemn ye E ntirely on thy tongue and wit i rely T hou art my secondary oxygen In what hell, without you could i have been? M ilked thee as a baby O milady, with my requirements am i not still milking? T o my soul, thou art soothing like april H ow do you pull this sledge, with a force so single? E xcruciating and tiring such is motherhood R ight from it, thee draweth thy energy, ironic My inheritance, thy complexion and eyes To claim love as another, my demise Loving and warm, thou art prime In a billion blessings, thou art a treasured dime Forever i ought to bombast on thy sweetness Sweet mother Thou art sweet
art, thou, thy, thee, ntirely