A Farmer Who Want To Be a Poet
under the tall iroko tree
he sat every morning.
wishing for a day never to come.
his eyes heavy with tears,
his heart heavy with sorrow,
and a light in the wind was
was his life.
with pen and paper he roamed the
but nothing to write,
the ones written never published.
his harvest is bountiful,
still he was never fulfilled
the delight of poetry
made his day,
but he died never recognised
with one.
Copyright © Oluwasegun Michael | Year Posted 2009
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