A poem about myself in which everything written is a lie.
A letter to my 9 year old self.
A letter to all the boys in the past, hoping they got exactly the things they left me for.
I like Nnamdi but he doesn’t see me. Nnamdi, dearest Nnamdi, won’t you like me too?
Hello… Ok, so part three is ready but it is kinda really short. Anyway, please enjoy. Part Three. The day before that, when I came back from work I met at my door a dirty little boy Beside him, his equally dirty sister With a dirty ragged doll for a toy. Please kind sir, can […]
Part Two. I forgot to mention Something from another time A woman whose sole occupation was to lay in your bed for a dime I was resting one evening When I heard someone at door. This one seemed to be crying As I drew closer, of this I became sure Immediately I opened up My […]
Hiya… This is sorta kinda a poem. A story too. Enjoy. Part One One early Friday Morning, I got up to pray. Just as I knelt, The door bell rang. This had happened before and when I took a look Alas, a man in haggard clothes In his hand what looked like a book With […]