SOWING SEEDS OF POETRY, EXPECTING HUGE HARVEST #POEMS
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Some Roses are warm red, pink or white
Soft smelling and often the cupid light
Sending arrows down the path of a fulfilled heart.
Though, if planted underneath the gravel
The roots shall to death be in ravel
Then it turns dark; black wilted broken in hell.
“I love you” should be a joy to hold
If given in freedom as a warm Rose
If not, thou have been dished a black wilted Rose.
Sitting beside a burning fire I feel the heat of my desire But my judgment is clouded By an all or nothing ill demand. People…
There were once clans of great people Living by their ethics and spiritual beliefs All across the River of Niger and Benue Until amalgamation came…
Plastics are made from oil Underneath the surface soil Hot balloons are filled with air Same air makes the fire flare. Cruel we may title…
Hey…! enough of the on and off No more switch, no more jagged knife Take it far away from my life… Including words that made…
