Once I was of the thought that birds don’t fly
Creativity in our eye is beyond contemplation
To paint minds with tangible illusions like walls
Growing up to be a normal human I met reality
He gave the birds the sky back, the wings to fly
Grounded my eyes in sockets, took their magic
Boxed my imagination in strict pockets of logic
Strong age current crush, to wash competition
All my childhood onshore alongside junk, like false
And shells that tell tales of curiosity and it’s quality
Tshiamo Dice Modise is a being that practices the art of dissolving problems in ink and leaving the solution on paper.