Frank Adie Poems

Forgiveness is the water
That quenches the taste for vengeance

Forgiveness is the medicine
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I had a house
A mere roof over my head
That keeps the sun's ray off me
Shields me from heaven's pour
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Gloomy faces of doomed men
Of all colour and creed
On board a single train.
Their destination and fate is even
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America, America, great America,
I hear your echo in Africa,
The song of the human race.
When would I see your face?
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How poetic is poetry without rhythms and rhymes?
What is called a poem is not a poem oftentimes.
To write a poem without poetic devices,
Is one of the commonest literary vices.
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I am more Something than everything;
And I am more Everything than all things.
Nothing can be more Something than I Am.
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Your fingerprint is different from mine;
We are different pages in the same book;
Nature hands people different glasses of wine;
You will understand that if you care to look.
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I was faced with two options,
And must choose one;
I must choose carefully,
My choice determines my fate.
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One certainty I know will befall me
As I journey along life's road: is death.

When will it come?
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I woke up this morning with a hole in my heart,
An incompleteness so foreign, so terrible.
What must have been the cause of this, I worried.
In search for explanation, I realized most regrettably
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