HATE ME AND LIVE (on broken Love by Owokere A. Etim)
It seems I have been known
By fruits only for a brief season sown
True, I do not deny my sins:
That I kept you out in the cold;
That for trifles, your love I sold. Now your anger hits me like a nightingale’s song.
Yet mirthless like a battle gong.
Your blink at me, venom filled sting.
I dread your