Liberty Regret
Oh! Concealed was the sign
That brought this sigh...
The wicked you!
Heavy sighs...
Profuse tears...
What a negative liberty
A garden of thorns
You were such a teeth
That crushed me empty.
At the sat on lawns
Saw in me residue of filth
Stinking sting on my tongue.
I knew it...dead long
Like a stale song.
My premature liberty
An air of regret.
Copyright © Goodness Lanre | Year Posted 2013
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