The Unused Tissue Poem by Micheal Nkemchor

The one I most desire
Is the one with a good heart
So many has fallen for my growing empire
So many more will love my beautiful art

They say the beautiful ones are not yet born
That is not the issue
Because even the ugliest is worsted than a sour corn
Then were lies this unused tissue?

Perhaps the wicked is the root
Or they themselves are the wicked
The answer lies beneath my foot
In spite of all the one with the good heart is wicked