The Planning Poem by Nweke Ogbonna Prosper
The Planning
My morning was as dark as twelve midnight
Restless and tears I woke up with.
I saw my ghost walking away
From the thoughts coming from my head.
Each passing day
Paves way for my dieing day.
Every drop of my tears
Draws me closer to my resting home.
I'm not crying for me
I cry for those I'm leaving soon.
Hold your tears dear ones
For I have shed enough already.
Adieu!
© Nweke Ogbonna Prosper.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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6/4/2024 12:04:57 AM # 1.0.0.1119
