Talking to myself through poetry
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Around me, there is this solace like a twilight
With intensity like the tropical Sunlight
When I am down, I believe a break of dawn
Would spring forth through the paths my faith has drawn
I believe tomorrow is as beautiful as the stars
Whether the unsaved tears never dries from my eyes
Challenges are mischievous like Satan’s storm fart
But it carves me, into a wonderful piece of art.
Soon you will be off an infant cloth And may encounter storms, dust and rust Some achievements may seem a mirage Unachievable until success emerge…
Let the pages fly and spread their wings Let my spilled inks make millions to think It is plain and simple, hope it sinks “All…
Simple or made into an Elf What is music to a born deaf? Same question goes without tongues Pot or Chef, who spoilt the stock?…
It is no news that the pigs are fat As a result of the embezzlements Taking politics as a personal farm Eating from the labors…
I loved the line “Santan’s storm fart.” Challenges can feel like that at times.
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Hehehehe… And when challenges feel like that some times, the quote “light at the end of the tunnel”; always play out. For our of nothing, comes a solution.
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hummmm
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Bad?
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wonderful! thought provoking
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Okay, I appreciate.
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LOL! Satan’s storm fart!
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You can imagine.. Lol
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