This poem was published in the Writers Space Africa (WSA) Monthly Literary Magazine in July 2018 Edition
Downcast I was
Laden, cumbered,
Lowered, eaten,
Bad’d turned worse,
Life’s, staggered; wanéd
Wounded, beaten
Vigor, counts less
All’d died, but breath
That I have it all
Heart, then broken, wearied,
Faith, hope stolen, morbid,
All ferried, as pollen, buried,
Far, and far em stamen,
How solid such life’s deed.
A friend is nought, anymore,
In need, now, he’d fault, no score,
Of love, not’a jot, unsure where to,
Far-off my cot, his smiles did tour,
That them count this poor!
Unloved, I’d thought, deserted
Even more; Now, churned with disconcert
Of the lore, Oh! “… friend indeed”
Roar dear, feely, rhyming; All spot on.
But in this, I pray, Is not, but pun,
Untrue, now, ever more!
