Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Wales Abiola Mar 2016
Anger hurls its arms upon my shoulder
Like two best friends
With arms on each others shoulder
So did I feel its cold arms around my shoulder

And once,
Everything and everyone I saw
Vexed me to the bones
As I saw them pass right beside me

I prayed for someone to cross my path
For I long for a dreadful fight
The more I see their faces and heard the echoes of their voices
The more anger cooks up hatred within my heart

Anger is an angel
For it walks right at you at a moment you desire it
And it endows you with confidence beyond glory
So has it consumed my heart now.
I hope you do not find much errors in this.
And should you find errors, it would not hurt to let me know...
Hope you find it interesting and significant to people.

Thanks
Wales Abiola
Wales Abiola Aug 2015
I saw the gray cloud draw near me
if i had a cup i would scoop this misty cream i see
my throat is weak and dry
my mother is aged
yet she walks this aimless journey of mine with me
the unkind sun
with its angry stare scorches our bodies
like a meat being grilled over and over
i felt my skin cooked
with my mother i walk this agonizing journey
with tattered cloths
hunger eating my inside
sweat like oil over our bodies
powder of dirt and dust glue our skin
every gathering we approach for directions
it ends up with people chasing us away with sticks
i watch as my mother ran
my aged mother
with gray hair and sun burnt skin
oh i weep
i weep for her
i weep for not understanding this dream
i sense she might fall and die on this journey
i hid my face away from her
she trusts i will lead her home
she knows i am not a weak son
but she is wrong
seeing my mother going through this hell life weakens me
i made a pact with my soul
my mother wont die on this agonizing path
my responsibility is to take her back home
care for her like never before
we approach a crossroad...
I saw hell
but i found my path home.
Wales Abiola May 2015
I hate the smell of disappointment
I hate the taste of losing
The stings of failure keeps leaving holes in my soul
I know I can't survive long in this pool of shame
I can feel the grasp of death pulling me down deeper;
Deeper Into the darkest place of my soul
I try whispering onto you to yank me out
But each time I whisper
I see you pulling away.

— The End —