Tears Of Dark Flesh Poem by habib akewusola

Cheers has been long said
For my head.
The weather forecast predicts a
Terrible temperature to comprehend.
Tears of revenge flow as
My star goes shallow.
Stoning of fruits is old
As dark's root.
Thanks has no rank
Pronounce, it appears every clan.
Several times I ask the mirror,
Will my flesh make the nearest
Future,
My flesh would never turn red
I don't breath in regrets,
All, lay on their chest in pretenses
Not knowing when sleep comes
To blend.