The Friend Poem by Felix Emeka George
The Friend
The friend I have,
Is a leper which
My welcome sweep sweet
With my hand shaking
As a native attitude
Like a cloudless sky
And the genial air
That my robe pleasant friend wore
Dreams that she dreamt I saw
She's like an ingrate fly
Who I only allowed
Go across my head
But intending to pitched tent
And build an elaborate house
On my head,
Fool she or l
She appears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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4/25/2024 12:45:08 PM # 1.0.0.1119
