My days of test running words. Measuring the effectiveness of my gaining poems,
The heart of few ladies was my dwelling place. I was gaging the potency of my words with some sample space.
How will I tell them,
I meant not, those utterances. Please can you help me tell Sade,
It was all lies.
From my cataract of words,
I gained the heart of Tumininu. How will I confront comfort,
That her heart is worth not more than specimen to me.
From the spontaneous overflow of my eloquence,
I brought to confusion, the feelings of Florence. Moriamo and Suliyat weren't left untouched.
It was all a tikitaka.
The factory of my words is now in check.
The sanitary of my mind is being worked on. Just for this last chance,
if am scout free, I will give a dance. How will i tell them. . Tale of a confused Poet..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem