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The sundown prostitutes

When a door closes another opens
Well… not on these burnt frames of mine
The burning dark fire places resistance
That breeds repulsions to all distance.

Tell me; have you loved in a whole tray
That all the love served were beams of light
Mimicking the Sunlight for the day,
Moon and twinkling stars at night…

So don’t blame me for being dark
Sellout, making love with hands out
When love I had suddenly turn lack
With perforation on my fickle heart.

©2018 Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

We have a choice

We all blame the government
For pushing us into the pit
Of hell and the sweet pleasant
Things, prostitution, ritual, theft
Drugs and human trafficking…

We all blame the government
For getting us into shorter breath
By the fake holy preacher nest
Let us fleek the tape in our chest
To realise we all have a choice.

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