Tuesday, 8 March 2016

WHITE PAGE OF MY LOVE


She used to live here in my heart before I wrote her that poem again, now she is gone to place unknown.
We used to meet at the crossed road where two love
Lines met, but the lines are uttered with soured lips.


I tried so hard to paint those faces we painted on the clay ground, but the brushes where lost in my mind.
Under the trees where we naked our feelings to the epitomy of the beautiful sun, I sat without a hope of her.


Beside the road yesterday, I hid my tears saying her names to the humans and the breeze that passed by.
We spoke to the grasses, to the buildings with smiles,
Everything about her was the best I have ever seen.
Now she is gone without a word of goodbye because
I wrote her that poem of the famished hearts again.


Speaking to her absence was my first and my heart hurts; hurts to see her go to another man's arms in tears.
My heart still remembers her love and affections,
Standing between lost and want, I wish I could see her again dashing to my arms like a child in joy.



(C) John Chizoba Vincent
All Right Reserved 2016




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