Its late in the night has he called you yet?
Is he heaven sent?
How can love be absent?
Is what you share fair and decent?
You cry silently, gravely torn.
You have been left on your own
The conclusion is foregone
Where he is you are forgotten.
Maybe he bumped into some bar lady
And forgotten about his fairlady.
To her he sings the same melody
That makes him part of your body
In the bar past midnight staggering with stardom
He must be a big don
His table full of intoxicating liquor
Oblivious of a marriage in troubled water.
Denny Moonde (20th century) Zambia
Source: The African Book Review
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