Inioluwa Fagbemi
Member Since: 1 year ago
Invisible -a poem Streams , in flows, they fall. Down my face, into my clothes. I walk around with them. I have learnt to clean them out of my ears, they seem to fill them up when I lay in bed, flowing side ways, never meeting. The sun and wind dries them while they wet my face , They no longer make patterns on my skin; ‘the treading of footprints is what makes a pathway’. I feel them when I smile , fake , shallow like the canals of my heart, pumping blood to keep me alive. But what is...
Let me Let me, sell my soul to the devil Let him hold me with hands that have fallen from heaven. Hunger probably saw me and said “that’s my own” I’ve toiled and toiled, but like leaves never sown. I’ve reaped earth and dust, thistles would have been gold. Suffer ? Later ? you joke... what suffering is more than the ones with whom I’ve grown. Let me sell my soul to the devil, Consequences can deal with their own, For now I must harvest the fruits of my Loan. #Poetry # Nirc...
