Woke up into the light, but a joke
The morning in my room seemed
As the darkness loomed the day into the night
Seven in the monring it was
Eleven at night it seemed
The defaced room I faced
A night without the moon it placed
Was a thought fought of being a reality
As like a cast in a scary movie
I was scared of an end to the last of my character
The poke to my face by the smoke
Was a feel of a poke by a stranger on facebook
With my books smoked up
And my throat chocked up
With tears in my eyes, I was locked up
Everywhere traced was with fire
Nowhere laced by wire
To thank God for his grace is never dire
In my heart forever it posts
That Sunday to remember the most.
Written and composed by Taiwo, Kehinde Oluwaseyi
This poem is dedicated to God for his grace over my life in the early hours of Sunday, February 16, 2014, when my room was gutted by fire.
Like the poem title denotes, that day would always be a Sunday to remember and importantly thank God for.
As always, a wonderful job, everything flowed very well and the imagery was a joy to read. I look forward to reading and enjoying more of your thoughts put to paper.
ReplyDeleteThank you for your thoughtful and inspiring comment. Surely more to come from me by God's grace.
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