Read Time:30 Second
Sickening your stomach
A dreaded dream
Poisoning your mornings
A helpless inconvenience
Leeching and yet prolific
Gone with few potion drops
Yet in your thoughts, you visioned me
The beauty in my brown eyes
Sweet pink ribbons on my curls,
The sound of my laughter,
And you had faith in my little limbs,
Trusting it would move mountains,
Forgive me mom, what you deserve,
Is an ode as Homer’s Iliad
Written by: Honeyhammer Ohgirliekevwe nayummyrealmuch
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
You must be logged in to post a comment.