After prayers and fasting, I finally got a job
Our love was great but still we needed money
So I worked more harder, when I got home you were already asleep
No taste on the food, just roasted potatoes
At some point we argued, but that's the life we wanted

To make it worse,I got a transfer to Canada
All along we fought for this life
"Patience is a virtue" that's a lie
our love trembled ,patience never made things better

I still keep calling, but you don't bother to pick up
I try to cook ,but I can't eat
am zero without you,hustle, killed us
but I want to remind you
that I still love you

I don't seek your permission...
To write about the what, why and how.
It could be a haiku or come in the shape of a cow.

I don't need your approval...
When I don't sound the least bit poetic...
In my mismatched metaphors or ill-rhymed acrostic.

I'm not asking for your blessing...
When I pen down and put up what I think...
Be it in cloying cliches or in tear drenched ink.

I don't crave for your understanding...
When my 10 word poems weren't filtered through your poetic lens,
Or if my contributions in collaborations lack in sense.

I don't hope for your likes...
If my content does not tickle your fancy,
Or if my words just rubs you silly.

I mean no disrespect...
But don't be too quick to click on the 'comment' button.
Private messaging has been put there for a reason.

I don't mean to cramp your style...*
You're entitled to your own opinions of course...
But if you've got nothing good to say, please save it and shove it up yours.

When you wake up from a sudden  dream and your heart is on your throat

When love becomes blur

When your heart is dreaded,you end up joining 'I can't breathe' support group

When you realise in life your either a predator or a prey

When you enjoy sin,like a beautiful dalliance

When light is a little further and darkness a little closer

When your words are all that you have left

When gentle breezes turn into gale,
     remember that you will prevail.

       You may tear at these pages daily,
in search of peace and tranquillity.
   Planting hope and scattering wishes,
    Spilling blood in smears and blemishes...
       Flying out of the dark on
     wings of birds.
       Bridging the rippling void through
           severed words.

                Seeking...
             Reaching...
               Imploring...
            Writing...

     Be not wary of eyes that speak.
  Be not afraid of mouths that leak.

Know that our scribbles are only
   sacred to us.
       Emotions and thoughts we
           bind and truss.

  What we put forth, we owe it to ourselves...
     Bits of us we've kept hidden in the
darkest rooms; atop the highest shelves.

You...
      are wielder of your mighty pen.
You...
      determine how far or long your
         words would span.

   Your words... They're precious gold.
Many or little; be them new or old.

So let drip your ink with little reservation...
  Let us grow from strength to strength
     as life teaches its lessons.

   Rise up and live on in these here pages,
     For here exist only
         freedom;
               not cages.