Adaobi Chiemelu



He's sitting there like an open book, waiting for me to read him
A part of him poking out, waiting for me to search him
Looking up at me, as if to drink me in
Inviting me for dinner, not minding we just attended the last supper, together
He's all smiles, bickering like a new born
His pages like his skin is so warm, he's turning me into a book worm

Topic(s) of this poem: friendship

Poem Submitted: Monday, February 26, 2018

Form: Free Verse

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Poet's Notes about The Poem

a friend was my muse

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