What of if I write,
Like a drunkard.
With ugly words,
Words of insanity?
What if I say,
Poets are restless.
What, if I say,
They are leaves,
Along the highway?
Not on till is over,
Before all poets,
Could all be normal.
Not on till life,
If freed from strive.
Before poets seeing,
What to write about.
POET AKINWEMIMO IDRIS.
(PARAKEET)
Like a drunkard.With ugly words,
Words of insanity?
What if I say,
Poets are restless.
What, if I say,
They are leaves,
Along the highway?
Not on till is over,
Before all poets,
Could all be normal.
Not on till life,
If freed from strive.
Before poets seeing,
What to write about.
POET AKINWEMIMO IDRIS.
(PARAKEET)
.
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