My hand itches for a pen. Preferably black inked. Something about black feels authentic, true, bold, brave.
Following
Sign up to join the largest storytelling community
or
Stories by Tebogo Yanda Keulebogile Msweli
BEFORE EVERYTHING CAME CRUMBLING D...
The book I wrote the poems in, was a gift from a dear friend of mine. The book had the scent of the cologne h...
LOST FOR THE HOLIDAYS
I felt lost.
I didn't know where to start planning ahead. I thought I was but now that the "ahead"...