Rose

I'm not sure you remember my name
or my envisage
or what we found and hid in box of time

I'm not sure I do too

last night I saw me;
stealing glances,
at us

you saw me
and tho our days has flapped away;
in tinctured memoirs

I saw a Us
you're so shy and sweet
I'm just straight- aflame

some say we hide ourselves
-from our body
and died, longing...

perhaps, that's why we forget.

Olabusayo Ajayi Hammed

nice piece @Olajay3700

Narrow mind

Narrow mind
How narrow can you get
How narrow is your narrow

You hallow in your narrow
A Furher in your own right
So full of self
With naught of worth to share
But narrow views of prejudice

Oh! Shallow mind
Locked in the gallows of your narrowness
Your empty bellows cannot forge

Merry go rounding in your cage
Remaining in the box at your age
Blind to the stream of wisdom within which you wallow

Tears for you my friend
For these are words I cannot swallow

Juggernaut Bn Yusuf

Cat
a cat is sleeping under a bench and its silence swallowed everyplace we are the cat and we are the stillness of tranquil. of exquisite poetry...
for the love of lines knotted and water that linked us - unneurotic for the love of ravishing ardour coapted, on pages of leaf and sands of time and everything...
the hand scrawling at night with tacit footsounds kissing your zeal with purest of fur...
take me to places of night. in there, its luminous you see every cranny pasts and some you dropped...
it all started from the roof to the pavement... to you... and you never see it ends or its back on the floor because cats are pristine...

Cat

a cat is sleeping under a bench
and its silence swallowed everyplace
we are the cat and we are the stillness
of tranquil. of exquisite poetry...

for the love of lines knotted
and water that linked us - unneurotic
for the love of ravishing ardour
coapted, on pages of leaf
and sands of time
and everything...

the hand scrawling at night
with tacit footsounds
kissing your zeal
with purest of fur...

take me to places of night.
in there, its luminous
you see every cranny pasts
and some you dropped...

it all started from the roof
to the pavement... to you...
and you never see it ends
or its back on the floor
because cats are pristine...

Saying it's difficult
To cut the space hurting.
Truth is: We are selective
And the memories made never fade
Memories only blurs memories
I'll like to remember
The giggles creaking wall
The silent nights thoughts fold in spiral
The texts and calls that smells like flower
The candle and its passion, hasty to kiss gust
The face and its treasures
The smile
Everything...