Not Yours to Sell

Most times I bleed these words;
Deserted by the elusive genius
As she courts other talents

Most times I squeeze these words;
Salty waters blinding eyes
As dams burst leaving no survivors

Most times I sift these words;
Trash swirling, syllables protest
As I step on someone’s toes

Once in a while a verse is given
Mundane comes to a halt; urgency
As I capture the moment

Creativity and commerce always controversial
“I do it for the love”
Therefore, imposter! These tears, sweat and blood
Are not yours to sell.


Note: This piece is for Magaly. Visit the link, dark poetry for the cruellest month, to find other outraged and protesting writers and artists.


  1. I don’t know how people who steal the creations of others can live with themselves. Their souls are obviously bereft of any creative spark, otherwise they would understand the depth of the violation.

    Such a powerful piece, Khaya!

  2. The development of the poem was superbly done. Especially considering the topic of the poem, it the artistry put into the development and construction have that much more heft to them.

  3. Ooow that was so personal and damning! I could hear your teeth grinding by the final lines…spitting a curse at the thief XXX

  4. I can feel the fury, the indignation oozing through the lines, the rage that makes a birther of words bare her teeth at word thieves… so much emotion. I really like this, Khaya.

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