THE CHRONICLES OF A POET
Words pour down on sheets like it's about to rain,
Verses sprint notoriously through my every vein,
The joy of being creative feels so exceptional,
The will to keep penning feels so inspirational.
Metaphorical in between the lines,
Paradoxical like cold running down the spines,
With the best of personification to help add some spice,
Every infrastructural amenities that make up my verses are finely constructed for the wise.
Absence of rhyme is like a steak with no salt,
More like a banking system with no vault,
The rhymes in each verse makes it unique on its own,
The feeling it gives me is more sensual than a very ecstatic moan.
With lyrics that could only make sense to those who take their time,
Reading to understand to me never cost a dime,
Discovering the hidden rhythm within each lines,
It's always a joy to know my writing skills are showing promising signs.
How I manage to keep my quill dancing remains a mystery,
At least it's still better than living the whole of my life in misery,
My zeal to keep writing gives to me the needed inspiration to keep surging on,
The distractions attached to it keeps making sure I give it all up and get gone.
Temitope Omotoso
YOU ARE READING
BLASPHEMY OR INJUSTICE
PoesíaBLASPHEMY OR INJUSTICE is a poetry collection about rare opinions on the reality, truth, and fiction surrounding the mysterious existence of life. As the author of this masterpiece, my theoretical knowledge explains my comprehension on the highs and...
