SUPER-SUBSTITUTE

In front, our heads bow,

In our minds, but how?

Don’t worry, it’s the super-substitute,

Replacing a great institute,

Waylaying happiness,

Installing sadness.

We keep on calling,

We can’t keep off falling,

No doubt it’s over.

Are we getting older?

Think not this wind has come to a standstill,

Only the coldness to feel,

At the same time emotions to conceal

Thrust in a carcass to seal,

A chance we missed,

Forever may-be, the deceased.

 

                                                 Tatenda W Mhlanga