It's me to blame.

I'm so fake
sometimes I'm a loose ass
opening my secrets to
everyone I find.
I have become a laughing
stock
For every tattered mouth
Undressing my skin,

Everytime I walk.
"He is a sheep walking
without destination"
I hear the fading sound.
As I erect my ears to
direction of
the moving wind.
I try as much to
refrain from what
I hear but it's piercing.
The speed at which
these words cum is
so terrible.
But I blame my
self for not tightening
the buttocks.

Hiire Ivan is a Ugandan Writer, Poet and Blogger.

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