A young poetry genius born and bred from the soils of Africa. The son of a lighting from the east that men and women tremble and stumble upon hearing ... Read Full Biography of Mashao Moloto
Nay, dear one, ask me not to leave thee yet.
Let me a little longer hold thy hand.
Too soon it is to bid me to forget
The joys I was so late to understand.
The future holds but a blank face for me,
The past is all confused with tears and grey,
But the sweet present, while thy smiles I see,
Is perfect sunlight, an unclouded day.
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