Pull My Strings
In the covert rendezvous of reality
My heart habs motionlessly.
Tranquilly, yet peace-less
In the very art of loneliness
I crave for a minstrel
Endowed with mastery of the timbrel
Cunningly curing the blisters of emotion
And poking my pox of dissatisfaction.
Copyright © Olorunsogo David | Year Posted 2017
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