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Beauty of the heart, make up art hurts

Merimela, mtoto aliyeumbwa bila shida
She was worth more than Guarana na cider
Curves ka magoti ya ngamia
No wonder I wanted her near
Her melodious voice for my ears
Her light skin tone, she was my pick
How tall she was but never saw far
How smooth she was like she was made of quality fur
She that captured my feelings
And drained my shillings

For her love was all about getting posh
Dinning fine
Riding high
But grinding none
She believed that her body was the currency
And her make up the tool of trade
Tolerating zero if your account balance had zero as the only significant number
That way you couldn't be her significant other
So materialistic she was. But couldn't afford no wife material.
Her love was never blind
For she thought of foundation as the strongest base
Bila mascara alikua anakaa msee amehara
Dehydrated she was but always wet
Natural and inner beauty she believed in none
Laughed at those who opted to be nuns
But confessed to the father, for she thought she couldn't be a good mother
Murder she wrote
Dressed to kill
But a heart so poor that a thief cant steal
A story is told
A proverb that still waters run

*Doluh words*
© *2018*

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