Kelvin Ofeimu Poems

Sometimes I feel like a museum keeper. A big, empty museum where no one visits and I protect it from no one, only myself.

There are crevices in my palms. An evidence of all broken things I have tried to hold together, but has length to call it's self a cenotaph of tragic endings.
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ABIKU
It's the cooing of its eyes,
Glaring, blood shut, laying still,
Devoid of all the emptiness each time
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