Eight Chose You Poem by Earnest Gatuma

If out of ten parts of me would have voted,
Some part of mine would not have left,
I miss your tangy dessert Kate,
Digging and cutting your rum cake
Ginseng and guarana drunk to zest.

My heart feels hard like an ocean floor,
Drenched in plasma, energy burning slow,
Orange blood oozing in this shark tank,
Fourteen black smiths at my threshold,
With the door opened am their cast whack,
An item locked in the store less like gold.

You are fired! Hottie like a volcano,
Io! El presidente she is my trio,
You were my first high though,
Addicted to you since the word go,
Now am after your dispatched resemblance
A landslide of my heart wants you back,
The rest is resilient with the withdrawal heartbreak.