Cut me open,
And you’ll find bookshelves,
holding stories written over years,
known by the ear, unheard of the mind.
The love section has two books, each a story,
but I only cling to the first book
because the other book is heavy like a burden.
The first book has all my smiles and laughs
All the jokes that keep the days going,
And memories shared over a night fire and a walk in nature.
It holds all these moments that help me escape reality.
Nothing fun in book two.
For with every page jotted down,
A crack formed in the ceiling of my library,
Creating a tumor in my brain,
Flooding the basement that holds all,
Washing off the ink, and erasing the pages from my memory lane.
As we grow,
Old days sound like folktales,
When we’d smile without faking it,
When the pain was real and not made up.
This poem was published in the 13th Issue of PoeticAfrica magazine.
Please click here to download.
More Poems:
The Bulb We Lighted – John Akande (Nigeria)
Half Day Love – David Jomo (Kenya)
Visages of the Soul – Mowete Ebenezer (Nigeria)
