Trevoh Wabwire Poems

Remember the numbers
You aren't getting younger
You arrived in this world
Coos and bubbles filled the silence
...

You are like a flower that blooms in spring
Full of scent,
Scent so strong,
Scent so unpredictable
...

I am a violin, strung too tight
Each cord stretched thin, ready to snap
My polished wood exterior grand and bright
But inside I ache, fragments to spill out
...