By Nomuzi Ncube
This life we live, pretends to be ours; while it's borrowed. One ends in a black hole, Six feet under the surface. It was never ours Sorry to say this, It's not ours? When we cliche jaws, Save a lifetime of sorrow; tear muscles and is it a gain? Love, acceptance and hatred ! And sorry it's not ours. If it was, it could have received us on a platter A bungle of joy; And a fountain of honey and milk.