Jilted, Wilted

Poetry | By Vimbainashe Mangoma, Designer | 03 October 2015

What have I done wrong in this here life?
Jilted, tilted, wilted before my time
Dumped, dragged with shame in flames

No call; no scream; just in waiting and equating…
To laugh and cry in isolation
Punishment of the highest order
Imprisoned with no crime
Guilty?… before the jury decides
I’m innocent!!

If family do not know you, what makes you think, tick, kick, be slick and nick!
They are not going to care or bare, tare or dare
He are not going to care for a rare mare
Pack and go; Drift and stay
Which is it?…Confused?…on the borderline you are!

Like a hungry stomach you churn not knowing when you will eat
No bounce or ounce ready to pounce
What is it you want?  Why cannot a man be involved with you and evolve
Not get too suspicious or malicious about intentions
Just enjoy the date without relation, elation or correlation
Analysing, tantalising everything…

Regret? Lament?
Elation builds with trust confined
Hear the plea in desperation
Fear not in serenity, there is a remedy…

A gentle-man will be…
In these tropics, a blessed soul to worship you
Sure as the sun shall rise on bended knee he will need
Groom of doom; Bloomed and pruned
Stability with control; Patience with grace
Waiting in worth

There is a man who treats you well; Rings you if I can tell
Makes you feel special …intentionally?…who knows?

You do not have to run around like a mongoose
Lose your cool like a goose feel trapped like a mousse ready for the kill
Like the old fella! What a killa…? You learn to think! Quick!
Why men cannot work you out… like a trout?
See how nice guys always finish last? It is a must!
There is no need to say much,

When things are right, they are tight!
Why bother the dead? When they are resting, nesting, questing for heaven’s door,
Forever on that hurdle;
To seize the moment you do not want to
I guess I will never know!