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Unloading
this self-flirting
the beginning
to life's meaning

ego- dissipating
feelings a--glowing
love--a-  blooming
an authentic being
 Nov 2019 Emeka Mokeme
putiira
Set fire
to my November.
 Nov 2019 Emeka Mokeme
putiira
I imagine you
in your days and nights
and write you
between the lines.
A kid I was when on way to school I caught her pretty face
Fell for her can’t call it love the sweet girl in school dress
She stood on her door a beauty of yore waiting for the bus
My limbs went limp grew butterfly wings she was my childhood crush.

I thought she knew felt it was my due flew me a bewitching smile
Waved her hands and knowing my mind she looked at me awhile
Each day on that way as I passed by her I caught in her eyes a gleam
Read in her waves a bridging of hearts in her smile an unfathomable dream.

No ordinary path it was a dream walk for nothing I could miss out the chance
To have a glimpse of her catch those moments forever get lost in strange romance
The ******* the door she made my spirit soar she was close yet a distant star
Took me on fancy flight her smiles glowing bright the child could never touch her.

I set myself a rule not to take break from school but to pass everyday by her
It’s no wonder some things last forever some memories with time never blur
She my whim’s fair red ribbon in her hair stood there in her white skirt
A petite white dove radiating precious love she enamored the little boy’s heart.

In the lost years’ light burns a patch bright where shines her unearthly face
A girl in her teen not aging always green occupying a permanent space
I don’t have of her anything more to remember what remains is so divine
The girl in her teen could be thirteen or fourteen and I was a boy of nine.
Not all smiles are real,
Some have screams behind it.

Not all promises are true,
Some have lies behind it.

Happy faces and loud laughs
Rich in money but poor in heart.

The world is not as it seems;
It has its secrets in the dark.

Everyone has an iron curtain,
Where they hide the tears and cries.

The lies touch our ears,
While truth looks into the eyes.

Afterall, the world is a mirage;
Where all the secrets easily camouflage.
cricket is tempting
playing outside on the street
despite mum's dark glare.
2/11/2019
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