e-Paper Poetry of Vinx

Back to crèche

I wish, I practice magic
When situations are tragic
I would never let death win
Those who sink, will have a fin.

I take giant strides for success
Just when I am about to pop and rest
Postman lands pink slips on my hands
Am to success, a one night stand.

I wish, I practice magic
I will destroy all tragics…
Cold outside, but I am sweating
When asked; “how are you this morning”

Should I reply the obvious
“Fine”, when am a faulty box,
And even with my aging flesh
Life keeps taking me back to Crèche.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

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