Each new day
I’m wearing the best make up a girl can ever wear
But behind that smile is a traumatising pain
So truly heartfelt and tragic to my spirit
Day-by-day my burden seems to get heavier and heavier
The feeling for sure is mutual to multiple souls,
but mine is extra by a thousand miles
Have you ever been tired of ‘kuzolunga’?
I’ve heard that a million times before,
but, instead of all things becoming fine,
everything gets worse and more complexities occur
Will I ever find peace?
Will my heart have a break?
I want to be healed
My tiny heart cries every night:
”God, please ordain my spirit once again,
so that when I walk, only people can see a model”