PoetrySad Poems


Our love has been tested
And found counting clusters
Of galactic days
Dazing from restless roof
Made of raffia.

Our birthrights have been dumped
On the sand thorny bushes
Designed for adventures
But starved of memories.

When our shadows
Become elves receiving slimes
From our dregs of sweat;
We are containing febrile thoughts
On what shall become of us
When all these ends?

Our calabash broke
And we’re sweeping off
The gold that painted
The contents of our heart.

What shall become of us
When all these end?

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