Capricorn
As a Capricorn
I make my pain a private thing
A kernel of corn
Only for me to scorn
Tiny cries in my heart
Boundless horror unsaid
My pain is a fruit much too tart
What a gruesome art
Afterwards. When the storm subsides
Then we can talk
I can testify vilify and rectify
I am vindicated
The matter has been debated
The process is unsofisticated
In the crevices of this cracked heart
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Zimbo-Capetonian
I am a aspiring poet, Graphic Design student, content creator and fervent believer.
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