Pont Mirabeau - Poem by BONGOKOBIDA ZAKARIA

Pont Mirabeau

Battle bee doesn’t accept the bad smell of flower
I am hopeful that in one fine morning if you return
I am not a battle bee.
Perhaps you are passing days more gladly being pollinated by other male
Yet mind not admit
At shadow of cherry tree many noon turned into afternoon
Your lips have colored by cherry flower
Could you remember me more?
Every evening I think of you
Thus I am growing old like the Pont Mirabeau
At forest shade of Cypress tree we passed many afternoon
I am not a battle bee.
Probably brick and stone made cremation at your chest
Probably luxurious building is built at your eye
Could you remember me more?
Going on thinking of you
I am another type of man amongst millions of people.
In moonlight at bank of river Shore many evening passed
I am not a battle bee.
Scratch of another male if put on your neck
If spot of another male put on your lip
My heart goes on fire while thinking
Yet, how much time shall I remain lifeless?
I am not a battle bee.

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Poem Submitted: Monday, December 26, 2011

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