Don'T You Think I Need a Refill
Words, woven into the kernel of my emotion
penned by sagacious poets on the soup,
are calling forth poetry,
from my mind's tower.
I can also hear the muse,
dictating another lines of poems.
But, why is my pen's stroke faint,
on the padded book I write?
Don't you think I need a refill?
Copyright © Modupe Sefunmi | Year Posted 2013
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