Prose

Matchbox

I approve you
For making me dim,
Landfill of agony,
Sorrow too.
I applaud you
Because am shrieking orb.

I acclaim you
Because I am a third world divest Prince.
I gild my dark skin
Contemptible economy, pitiable,
But still lionize you.

For my mat cuddles my orb with tears.
I compliment you
For my dears are gone
Euphoria is restored.
I am a grand orb,
And certitude builds our fortress
Alekwu be extolled.

About author
Umar Osabo teaches English as Second Language (ESL) and English as Foreign Language (EFL) courses at the University of Hargeisa, Somaliland, East Africa
Articles
Related posts
Prose

Oh precious and distant land!

Have you set your eyes on the spirit of the days between?Or the seasonings of the season? Yesterday, tenderers of the fields… Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading...
Prose

Hues of Ms Obianuju

Bag of bonesAnemic rope of flesh boundJaded eyesIn a mud of drug residuesWares of speculationThe later, not the former*Tongue of eloquenceGrim reminderOf… Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading...
Prose

The frocked men are back

At the last SabbathFrocked menConverged at the walls of Mount Carmel.After a long hiatus.On one sideMinions under bottle gourd plantsWith a sprinkle… Share this:Click to share on Twitter (Opens in new window)Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window)Like this:Like Loading...
Power your team with InHype
[mc4wp_form id="17"]

Add some text to explain benefits of subscripton on your services.

Leave a Comment

%d bloggers like this: