Olusola Butler Poems

He's waiting; soul's melting in the sun's torment,
Drenched in the pool of his dry tears;
He's graced as he walks with same unwanted ornaments.
What good can be born of a crowned looser, who cares?
...

T'was a moment without night whisperers
At the depth of gloom without the moon or stars
My fears extend beyond my comprehension
And my confidence weakens at the gate of desperation
...

The night went quiet
An opened bar made the path to a moment afterwards
A lady tarries right beside me
Forcing words out from a closed lip
...