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Dec 2018 · 190
My lips in harmattan
Oluwatobi Jimoh Dec 2018
In the beginning, you were red,
Soft
And so succulent,
That's what i heard

You were so small and short,
Yet made others warm and hot
Infact, you were a pillar to hold, when everything did go cold,
Even for the ones that had grown old

Moisten you were, you never hurt
That's what i was told
You moistened them like a frog,
others that were ragged like a toad

But,
That was then
Yes! Long dead
Later,

You changed frm red to pink,
This' what i could ink
Watery like a sea,
That's what i could see

Though pinkish, you still brought light
And made everyone hopeful
So charming, you made others lost nights
because you were more beautiful

But that's in the past again
Now, u changed from pink to tan
The parching dust-bearing season of harmattan
Made you to change colour again

But why this continuous change?
Were u a chameleon?
Why this sudden pain?
You made me rage!
What did you stand to gain?

I didn't know what you did gain, but I'd be fine
My pink/red you, I must to find

Yes!
And I soon found.
The white men behind you,
Exposed you
They ate every you from behind
They would not stop; they knew where you did hide

Alas!
U came back softer
The tan colour were no more,
They were nt pink either
But reddish they were and more brighter

Thank God i came back strong,
After, you made me weak
You and my red shirt now became identical
Even more reddish than my tongue



OMOLUWABI

— The End —