Sad realities
Duke Kamanda: Sad realities My new big clay pot, That ever since I bought, Could hold water, I thought, For it had a crack not, Not even a hole tiny as a dot, So in its task it could fail not, To hold water for my dry throat, And for cleaning my messed up coat, On it I had no doubt, Pessimistic ideas I fought, Which to have considered I ought, But I was never taught. For in it I had trust, At dawn I could see it first, At dusk I would see it last, I would not see it when I fast, It would understand I have no thirst, Neighbors stared with lust, Wishing they could pour dust, Yet knowing that…