When sugar tastes bitter
Honey seems sour
Salt stings as thorns
Water feels putrid
Foods turn to mere routines
Byes take the places of hellos
The earth underneath threatens to swallow
Every step shakes with caution
Clouds give red more than black
Yet the skies nears evaporation points
Could be your season of the inversals
Everything on its head
Hold on to hope
Though could be a thin line
Soon comes the reversals
Sweats dry out in a while
Your water shall flow in spirals
The trees shall bear fruits
Change comes in seasons
Olaniyi G. Akanji
© 2015
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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