MoudyPoet - Dithothokiso

I've been distant, for a while,
From my words, my voice,
Maybe I've forgotten them,
Or lost them in my lies.
Having no means to express
myself, I struggle,
Coz my words are the story
on my puzzle.

It seems I've lost myself,
Amongst the chaos and the noises,
Amidst the things that I've been through,
Though some weren't even my choices.

I feel empty, helpless ,
Coz I've got no more words to say
But thousands of emotions
and things to explain,
Maybe I'm suppressed by the pain,
The pain of scars that once healed,
But now bleed again.

I haven't heard my soul in ages,
It waits, wanting to be heard,
Cries in silent rages.

Nothing seems to fall in place,
But they say what's meant to be,
Will always stay.
So how can I bring myself back?
A part of my soul that lived in,
The way it was, the way it thought,
How can I bring back the words I lost?

How should I deal with this kind of loneliness?
where I've nothing to say when put to explain,
Coz I'm left with no words,
To express my emotions and my pain.

With time,
The unwise gain wisdom,
The weak find their strength,
The naive become bold,
The poor become rich,
The sinners seek righteousness,
The young become old.

Yet we say "Time flies," with a sigh,
But why not soar alongside, reaching new highs?
The ground beneath us, a foundation strong,
With unwavering hearts, we'll journey along.

For a resolution that never yields nor wavers,
For a mind with strong will,
Ignite with passion, blazing like fire,
For a mind that believes and have faith,
Whether or not our dear time likes it,
It is bound to favour those who persevere and blaze.

Tshebeletso ya lepato la Pulane Moshotho etlo tshwarelwa holong ya sekolo sa Phahamisanang ka moqebelo ona (23/12/2023) ka 08H30

Hiding out

Behind every smile,
There are scars.
Scars, which are not healed,
Scars, which will never fade.

Behind every truth,
There is a lie.
Lie to protect ourselves,
Lie to avoid problems.

Behind every relationship,
There is a fear.
Fear of losing our loved ones,
Fear of losing ourselves.

Behind every dark night,
There is sleepless me.
Me,who is confused and broken,
Me,who died long ago.

I looked at the mirror,
And i saw someone,
Who wasn't me,
I looked so pale,
My eyes dull,
My wrists looked too fragile,
While my eyes shined with tears,
I always hide.

I looked at the mirror and
Saw the one you made,
Now that I realise,
I lost myself,
I can't find traces of me,
I can't see my smile,
Can't even see myself,
I wish I had once cherishes deeply.

The mirror looked so familiar,
Beautiful, decorated with shells,
How ironic was it to see,
That my own reflection seemed to diminish it's beauty.

I see someone you made for yourself,
Someone the society made for themselves,
I'm not happy though,
I want to go back to being me,
Who was silly and goofy,
Angry and confused,
Sweet and caring,
I want to look at the mirror,
And lock eyes with myself again.

Noone is ideal,
In physics, the ammeter,
The galvanometer, the voltmeter,
Even the scale deters.

Noone is ideal,
Not the solution in chemistry,
Not the cell's resistivity,
Not even the exact molarity.

Noone is ideal,
Geometric ratios, or trigonometric functions,
Be it real numbers and relations,
Or the concept of weird mathematical functions.

Noone perfects literature,
In some field, still immature,
Noone masters language,
Or its Basics,

No one knows the whole history,
It's a deep hidden mystery,
Noone knows all about kings,
Or the wars.

Honestly noone is ideal,
Not even past,
Noone is perfect,
Not even the best.
So why beat yourself up
For something so natural,
It's ok to be imperfect,
After all physics, history, English, chemistry,
Even they aren't perfect!

Night

Freedom in me
draws island on sea,
where no human being
left everything before.
Watching horizon
that never comes,
with water that never ends,
under stars that never speak,
to the purity of the birds
that never falls.

From the moon
that never cries
for me to lead by the light
of endless sadness
in freedom night.

I wish people were poetry

I wish people were poetry,
So they would know , I too speak and cry,
And how much I love the touch of words ,
As they've given me wings to fly.

I wish people were poetry,
So they'd know how every word is strung ,
How hard it take to define a word ,
that you've never learnt.

I wish people were poetry,
So they would sing along with the rhyme ,
They would see all my tears ,
That I hid while crying.

I wish people were poetry,
So they would know how I embrace my
Scars within the metaphors,
They would appreciate me
For hiding how strongly it hurts.

I wish people were poetry,
So I could adore their similes,
Beautiful as a dream,
And I won't defy , for the first time,
That they're how they seem!

I wish people were poetry,
So they can know that a poem
Is Beautiful even if it doesn't rhymes,
And they could console me , telling
It isn't easy to be strong , all the time.

I wish people were poetry,
So they could see the beauty
Of unspoken words,
And the pain that makes them
So heavy as they're carried , unuttered!

I wish people were poetry,
So they would know that
sharing pain could help it cure ,
But they aren't poetry,
They haven't heard me weeping
And I've heard them say,
'You should speak more.'

God's Favourite Child

The devil watched on as the moment came for God to choose His favourite child.

Before God were saints who hadn't soiled their robes in a long while.
They hadn't committed any sexual sin or engaged in any of the "works of the flesh".

Then stood I beside them;
My robes stained and spotted;
My face pale from the imminent rejection that was about to befall me due to my
Unwholesome appearance.

I had prayed and confessed scriptures; done all I could to escape the "sin that so easily besets me" but to no avail.
Eventually I gave in after a hard fought battle.

This was the moment the devil had been waiting for; his face lit up with a wide grin, seemingly pleased by his achievement of causing my fall.
Surely I couldn't be God's
favourite child after soiling my robes.

God began to scan the faces of the saints in pure white robes, my heart beating faster,
Skipping beats in the process.
My fingers felt numb and my feet felt cold. My legs began to vigorously shake.

Suddenly there was such silence you could hear a pin drop. The expectation in the
Room was electrifying and even the devil looked on with rapt attention.

The silence was finally interrupted by God's voice as He turned His gaze to my end and bellowed my name. I stood in total shock!! The enemy had the most ridiculous expression I've ever seen and the other saints couldn't believe their ears.

God continued : My son, I know how your genuine struggle with that sin is and how that you do your best not to give in but don't
Quite often succeed.
The Father is drawn to those who have special needs and you My son are my favourite child. Cast your cares upon me for I care for You."

Tears were just streaming down my face, falling in huge drops. Then the devil made a move to accuse me but God waved him off and signalled the saints who hadn't soiled their robes to embrace and comfort me.

I didn't even realise my stained and spotted robe had changed to become like that of the other saints until they were done comforting me. Isn't God a good God???

I still laugh so hard when I remember the expression on the devil's face. The joke was on him. Hahahahaha

MoudyPoet - Dithothokiso Modise Moshotho ke mongodi le mohlophisi wa dingolwa tsa dithothokiso le di palekgutshwe. Ke tsepamisitse maikutlo haholo puong ya Sesotho.

Life lessons are amazing and mind blowing if you think about how they work,

how one day you are joyful and positive on a huge level you feel like you are out of your mind you don't have to do so much thinking.

how on the next day you are nothing but a mess and you push people away and make sure they are distant.

I guess truly that is what life is all about, being in and out of your mental prison.

But hey, aren't we all searching for a serum that will help us breathe and regenerate the presumed hope we are clinging.

It is alright child, we are all walking our different paths in life , we will eventually meet in the end of those paths , to grab the paper that has the lyrics to the anthem of death , we all will be singing.

MoudyPoet - Dithothokiso Modise Moshotho ke mongodi le mohlophisi wa dingolwa tsa dithothokiso le di palekgutshwe. Ke tsepamisitse maikutlo haholo puong ya Sesotho.

I have a million tears in my eyes,
When I come to know one more girl has been victimized,
You r**e her just to quench your thirst,
You might enjoy but her whole life get burst.

I have a million tears in my eyes,
When I come to know one more girl won't see sunrise,
You're so ruthless that you kill her in the womb,
I wish I could decorate your whole body with atom bombs.

I have a million tears in my eyes,
When I come to know one more girl won't touch the sky,
You don't let her study because you think she'd be out of control,
If you allow once believe me she'd care more about your dreams and goals.

I have a million tears in my eyes,
When I come to know one more girl has been advertised,
You sell her body like a piece of property,
Shameless man couldn't you find any other way to cut your poverty?

I have a million tears in my eyes,
When I come to know one more girl has been jeopardized,
In the beginning you might think that asking for dowry is not a big deal,
As a result she gets those scars and wounds that can never be healed.

MoudyPoet - Dithothokiso Modise Moshotho ke mongodi le mohlophisi wa dingolwa tsa dithothokiso le di palekgutshwe. Ke tsepamisitse maikutlo haholo puong ya Sesotho.