Sila Muthoka Poet Free verse

Tales of Love

I love a girl,
And it’s my choice, the doctor says,
That my heart is confused.
Sometimes fast
Like the racing horses,
Others sluggish 
Like the story of an African orator,

I said I’m sick
Yet none sees, 
None comforts me,
The farther my heart went into her
The sicker I am.
I can’t live her without,
She takes away the oxygen around me,
She  takes with her keys to my joy,
Alone in yonder land
She enjoys owning the good created in me.

Like the bedroom who is never good without the host
I’m  become vain without my love,
Now have I known
That love is a sickness
Cured by getting more sick.

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Justcallme Britt June 19, 2012 at 10:38 AM WOOOOW!!!! This go hard! I TOTALLY can feel you when you say, "love is a sickness cured by getting more sick" <3

June 19, 2012 at 6:42 AM Perhaps she is sick too, and in which case, the only cure is eachother : ) love Elizabeth Sila Muthoka June 19, 2012 at 7:24 AM to find her is the priority, ha ha. thank you stopping to look at my work.