A crested ambition
That man
A minister in the temple of justice.
Couched in jenteel
Elegant and stylish
Portryed in those expensive suit
I have love for your brogue feet,
And that rope across your chest.
To the feragamo holding your trousers.
Your trousers;form a catacomb
That ends above the ankles
Showing colourfull your socks
Is it your personality I love most
Or the way you fight
Using polished words to defeat each other
I have always looked at you
Like a man looks at his wife in labour
Desperate! anxious!
I have grown itchy hands
And long legs
I no longer ask when I will be there
Or when I will be you
I am ready indeed
For you are crested on my heart.
Faruk A. Yamah
2016
A minister in the temple of justice.
Couched in jenteel
Elegant and stylish
Portryed in those expensive suit
I have love for your brogue feet,
And that rope across your chest.
To the feragamo holding your trousers.
Your trousers;form a catacomb
That ends above the ankles
Showing colourfull your socks
Is it your personality I love most
Or the way you fight
Using polished words to defeat each other
I have always looked at you
Like a man looks at his wife in labour
Desperate! anxious!
I have grown itchy hands
And long legs
I no longer ask when I will be there
Or when I will be you
I am ready indeed
For you are crested on my heart.
Faruk A. Yamah
2016
This comment has been removed by the author.
ReplyDeleteThis is just beautiful,your composition of words is admirable, i have read this like twenty times. I hope to write this beautifully someday
ReplyDelete