Enoch Cole

Enoch Cole Poems

What is the heart piercing comeliness of this existence we so cherish.
Why read we not amidst the lines for us to procure an intuition that it's salubrious gains are all but slavish.
When one is born he's established a naming ceremony and a welcoming toss to this mighty agonizing world
Oh that babe, ignorant ultimately about all activities during it's morning.
...

The cold: it pours as ice on our skin.
The gelid grapples our rind.
And our combats resemble those of the fishes scales.
That when we chafe our smarting occurrence we the upshot on our coating sallow and chalky.
...

You may never cart away a knowledge about this term.
Neither will you amount an accurate definition for it, firm.
Not until you tumble into it's unclean pond.
Loneliness is an iniquity, a dilemma about liberty formed.
...

My beloved, come close.
Give me something, give me rose
Oh mother my deceiver give me love of ice let me froze.
...

When I wake up in the morning.
I wanna behold you in my arms.
With your spotless and tender soul on my palms.
Still sleeping as I stare into your eyes.
...

I'm strucked oh I'm strucked.
Loneliness strikes me like cyclone.
My situation has land by the milestone.
The incidental hit disposes a scar, now I bare my cross all alone.
...

Oh no.... Oh no!
Captain: the undertaking of my seamen is impending.
We are encompassed by an hurricane.
We both can relate to the fact that there's gonna be a quandary fostering them to execute their responsibilities like a levite in a fane.
...

Spasmodically, the eventuality of a romantic ambience languish and away doth scrubs.
But supposing fate gives in, it replenish itself again.
And we hype the late occurrence to be an evergreen shrub.
Babe, in anything we do let's keep head up high so we could avert those events projecting to pester and disturb.
...

Enoch Cole Biography

Am a Sierra Leonean born on the 20th October 2004 Am a 18 year old poet, playwright, storywriter, songwriter and an artist)

The Best Poem Of Enoch Cole

This Existence By Enoch Cole

What is the heart piercing comeliness of this existence we so cherish.
Why read we not amidst the lines for us to procure an intuition that it's salubrious gains are all but slavish.
When one is born he's established a naming ceremony and a welcoming toss to this mighty agonizing world
Oh that babe, ignorant ultimately about all activities during it's morning.
But we have ascertained he will be certain, yea we know many.
As he grows and perceive the scent of evil he met here he discerns it good to do.
Now as he unfolds his imitations he is cursed, striked, beaten, molested, reprimanded, detained.
By kinsmen of this same imitation, no one to reveal or constrain.

When the sooner one is competent to learn he is forced into the armour and armed with sword, the most optimised barn as they profess.
To easily subdue Goliath: the moolah.
Immediately one realises it's essential though being the root of evil and asses the subdue as a must but feels this armour and sword are a burden to him and shrugs them off thereby tracing the streets in search of sling and stones to take to the battle as his own assumed weapons of succeeding.
They conclude and eye the individual to have gone disoriented and off to the rails.
No more helping hands but negligent and negative wands.

Inasmuch as one embark on a goal and taste the deadly counter attack of failure.
All he will ever derive in return is a couple of dry taps of motivation on the back, some signifying stabs and a million flowers of rebuke, daunting and reprimand comments.
And he alone has to bare his cross of a new outset.

Hence one bag an achievement of a precise aspiration.
He gets enough flowers and some to shear.
Cos they are called together by good and depraved vibes.
Some commend and praise with positivity, some negativity others jealousy and envy and thereby seek the champion's life to witness a levy.
At the close of the achievement unveiling no one lends a c about his next hop.

When the sooner one call off the grave-light of bachelorhood or a spinster challenge for the duskiness of marriage.
The multitude to celebrate with them outweighs a sight.
Much gifts and congratulation messages for the couple's might.
Afterwards not a single soul from that mass is going to bare the share of the hiccups and pains faced in their homes.
Some neither ain't gonna care to care where stands their set stone.

Before your life is required of ye.
Most of you abide derilicted.
Some though are fortunate not to be.
Not being mean not they bare no scar, all have.
But most of you abide derilicted.
When one light ruins down then is a human considered.
Tears to intreat bereavely, bellowed mourns.
Cos then he's gone elsewhere, interactions quelled, fun? .
That's why they mourn, but what's more for him.
Probably some eulogy, elegy, dirge and complementings Then lowerd beneath the earth six feets away from us.
Dust to sum six feets tall what a loss.
To this agonizing world.
Mankind weep because one of them has left them to the agitations and grief here to rest in a peaceful course.
Gone as he was born.
Naked, with none of the prosperities he have been wrestling and kicking to attain.
Then I wonder thus: What is the heart piercing comeliness of this existence we so cherish.
Why read we not amidst the lines for us to procure an intuition that it's salubrious gains are all but slavish.

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