Talking to myself through poetry
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Every year we look forward to next
Speak of the Devil, December is here
But it has not a spark of decency
Taking many lives, at the final lap
You may not truly comprehend
Or understand the gravity
And the large vacuum it does create
Until it snatches someone close to you.
Down the streets, I see fierce men in blacks Throwing punches and spraying bullets back On both the dead guilty and the innocent From such…
Are we now familiar strangers? Our silence seem to write love letters On empty space through the louvers; I miss you, let’s talk it over……
Thank you God, as I clock thirty three years old today… Dear readers and fellow bloggers, join me celebrate my new age, put me in…
We are celebrating sixty, Yet there are no basic amenities, Nigeria!! In her house is where I grew up, Everyday she worsens, I am fed…
So true! I hold my breath every year at this time… thinking “ is my turn?… will it be my loved one?”. Well said!
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On point
Thank you
Am happy you can relate
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🙏🏽
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