"seventeenth" poems
1035
Bee! I’m expecting you!
Was saying Yesterday
To Somebody you know
That you were due—
The Frogs got Home last Week—
Are settled, and at work—
Birds, mostly back—
The Clover warm and thick—
You’ll get my Letter by
The seventeenth; Reply
Or better, be with me—
Yours, Fly.
68.2k
I remember they once told me that
music is the best time capsule
It's where people keep their secrets and feelings;
of their insecurities, their mistakes, their sadness, their first cut,
and even the wounds and bruises that invisible to the eye
It's where people let their wildest dreams alive;
of the one they can never reach, the one that will never come back, the one that got away without proper farewell
It's where people store their most sacred memories;
of their first kisses, their first love, their first dance, their first bucket of roses, their first heartbreak
So they were right after all,
Music is dangerous, yet addicting; it can either tear you apart or put the pieces back altogether, it depends on what kind of ghosts living inside the interlude
Thus, be careful who you listen the music with
some melody is louder than the others
**
Today I played the music box you gave me on my seventeenth birthday
How odd it is to realize that music sometimes can be a time machine, how every strings and clinks bring me back to you—towards you
Oct 10, 2016
Oct 10, 2016 at 8:56 AM UTC
Here’s something you seldom hear: don’t always listen to your heart. Because if your heart is like mine, it’s often fickle and confused. Emotions aren’t always true, they may come and go with the wind. Feelings trick us into believing lies. You look in the mirror and feel inadequate. You hear something so many times that you start to believe it’s true. You take a situation and manipulate it till it’s something completely false. But it’s time you start listening to your head: you may not be in control of what you feel, but you are in control of how you handle those feelings. Look in the mirror and tell yourself, “I know I am beautiful.” Refuse to believe the lies. Remind yourself of your many wonderful qualities. Don’t read too far into things, take them as they are. Worrying doesn’t change tomorrow, it just makes today more troublesome. Decide to be happy. Decide to be okay. Don’t believe everything you feel.
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
There's a crowd of pitch black unicorns at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert.
A crowd of pitch black unicorns moving their onyx hooves and horns
at the rhythm of drones dressed in electric guitars. An acoustic break follows.
The vibrations of the music and dancing cause purple flowers to grow,
purple flowers weaned on blood and sticky black tar. There's a crowd of
unicorns dancing at a Chelsea Wolfe's concert feeding on ladybirds crisps
and dragonflies sticks, that once home will play vinyls on mystic turntables of fire.
The purple flowers grow into vines and try to smother the unicorns
to prevent them from listening to bloodred-dyed vinyls on mystic turntables of fire.
Meanwhile in the corner of a museum S. Teresa of Avila's statue animates by itself, walks
to the window and throwing itself crumbles into a thousand of pieces of marble.
The seventh seal has not been opened yet but the ninth the eleventh and the seventeenth
exploded already, cracked their own wax and started spreading tongues of flames
and water to decimate humanity. A woman dressed in a fifteenth century scarlet outfit
leads the pitch black unicorns to salvation creating a safe haven for them
in Manchester and another one in California. They have in the meantime gone bonkers
and started feeding on each other. Equine teeth suddenly grow carnivorous jaws.
Nothing is left in the two oasis apart from a puddle of blood and a pavement of corpses.
It's 7 a.m. Chelsea has not yet finished her concert and her music blossoms around
played by the mystic turntables of fire. That which remaineth is pitch black light
and the breath of aeons lingering here and beyond and nowhere.
Feb 10, 2016
Feb 10, 2016 at 8:33 PM UTC
i brush the popcorn off my jacket.
outside the theater where they show
fassbinder films
i dig for spare change in my pocket
for the homeless man on the corner of
seventeenth and arbor.
heard through the psychobabble
as he extends his hand:
“get a girlfriend
get a job
stay warm”
the things we do to be human.
Oct 24, 2011
Oct 24, 2011 at 2:50 AM UTC
The day began with tears of emotion and excitement,
And all set in His plan predestined ever before His creation
That two little souls would be united for a purpose
With God it would be revealed, but to mankind, hidden always.
Twenty four milestones have been crossed with thorns and roses trod,
No mortal on their rescue was prepared to seek them into safe arms;
Yet it is HE Who has carried the twain souls in His Arms.
Mockery lashed at them; stones pelted at them; rivalry set ‘gainst them;
Stories cooked ‘gainst them; venom spewed at them,
It was God-sent angels who hid them in their wings.
Predators set to eat their flesh and blood but in vain,
For it is His Providence That carried them in His *****
They crossed sixteen milestones, and on the way to Seventeenth,
God revealed His plan unto them with a Gift from His Arms,
And three souls have been added into His Fold.
Their Twenty fifth milestone is set to walk further,
And the three souls have laid themselves in His Arms.
Heaven crowned the three with His Golden Promise
And they shall be in His Providence till the ages go.
Jan 16, 2012
Jan 16, 2012 at 9:04 AM UTC
"I am sorry. I don't want to be an emperor, that's not my business. I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible. Jew, gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other's happiness; not each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there's room for everyone and a good Earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls, has barricaded the world with hate; has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut our selfs in; machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical, our cleverness hard and unkind. We think to much and feel to little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost. The airplane and radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions sires out the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me I say "Do not despair". The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress: the hate of men will pass and dictators die and the power they took from the people, will return to the people and so long as men die liberty will never perish. Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you, enslave you - who regiment your lives, tell you what to do what to think and what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines, you are not cattle. You are men. You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate only the unloved hate. The unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers - don't fight for slavery, fight for liberty. In the seventeenth chapter of Saint Luke it is written: "the kingdom of God is within man". Not one man, nor a group of men - but in all men - in you. You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure. Then in the name of democracy let us use that power - let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work,that will give you the future and old age and security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie. They don't fulfill that promise, they never will. Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people. Now let us fight to fulfill that promise. Let us fight to free the world, to do away with national barriers, to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world were science and progress will lead to all men's happiness. Soldiers - in the name of democracy, let us all unite!"
~Charlie Chaplin
Oct 20, 2013
Oct 20, 2013 at 8:24 PM UTC
My seventeenth year I began to see colors all these colors from people who I had always imagined had these beautiful bright amazing colors but deep down they were dark and twisted and ripped me apart to even look at them but then I started to open with colors and they were the ones that were beautiful bright amazing colors but also came with the realization that my whole family ******* ****** and of course I knew this before because I realized that I had watched those same colors explode on other people but thought nothing of it because I still believed in happiness and rainbows of others but now I make my own **** happiness and rainbows with the people whose colors are bright and beautiful just like mine so this is a poem for the people who can take their nasty dark twisted colors and shove it up their ***** while I sing I see your true colors shining through I see your true colors and that why I don’t love you
Mar 14, 2016
Mar 14, 2016 at 12:00 AM UTC
I am standing on a staircase, on the seventeenth step,
but the eighteenth onwards has no bannister,
up until now, I've had a safety net,
something to lean on when
the steps aren't lit properly.
'Now', I tell myself,
'I've seen people who have fallen
and manage to grip to the edge
and pull up...towards the next'.
'But I've seen people fall
and never get up'.
I say;
'Am I another statistic?
Am I another failure?
Am I another mangled corpse for the cleaners?
Or...
Am I going to lift my leg and take that step?
Am I to ignore the thoughts?
Am I stronger than I let myself think?'
I lift my leg.
Upwards and onwards, I guess.
Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 7:25 PM UTC
Loneliness seems to be decorated like a gift.
Covered by the whispers of people and carved by their oh so curious eyes.
If only it were as simple as being alone in a room for more than 10 seconds.
I've never been able to completely grasp onto the meaning of the word "Lonely".
Yet the silence of the world has caused my lungs to fill with the drowning sensation I have so carefully attempted to avoid.
Some people call it "daddy issues"; My constant need for comfort and companionship all derived from my "daddy" walking out on me as a child.
I refuse to believe it is that simple. The choking caused by my inability to swim while being dragged down by a cinder block is simply a sensation; I have this "adrenaline ***** vibe" about me they said. It is only a useless attempt at filling the void you've created.
Loneliness... It falls between Falling in and out of love, deciding on if you want or need someone there to comfort you. Loneliness, it occurs in any in-between moment of silence. This never ending abyss of a word has been pulling me in, as if the twinkle in my eye that came with "Oh look she has your eyes Albert!" Never existed.
I refuse to believe that this entire time all the bad things that went wrong with me along the way were just a domino affect of you walking out.
If I could go back ten years from a week before my seventeenth birthday I would tell six year old me not to invite that man to her birthday because he will simply disappoint her.
$100.00 isn't love, it is passing by with the least amount of effort.
Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC
"I am sorry. I don't want to be an emperor, that's not my business. I don't want to rule or conquer anyone. I should like to help everyone if possible. Jew, gentile, black man, white. We all want to help one another. Human beings are like that. We want to live by each other's happiness; not each other's misery. We don't want to hate and despise one another. In this world there's room for everyone and a good Earth is rich and can provide for everyone. The way of life can be free and beautiful, but we have lost the way. Greed has poisoned men's souls, has barricaded the world with hate; has goose-stepped us into misery and bloodshed. We have developed speed, but we have shut our selfs in; machinery that gives abundance has left us in want. Our knowledge has made us cynical, our cleverness hard and unkind. We think to much and feel to little. More than machinery we need humanity. More than cleverness we need kindness and gentleness. Without these qualities, life will be violent and all will be lost. The airplane and radio have brought us closer together. The very nature of these inventions sires out the goodness in men, cries out for universal brotherhood for the unity of us all. Even now my voice is reaching millions throughout the world, millions of despairing men, women and little children, victims of a system that makes men torture and imprison innocent people. To those who can hear me I say "Do not despair". The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed, the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress: the hate of men will pass and dictators die and the power they took from the people, will return to the people and so long as men die liberty will never perish. Soldiers! Don't give yourselves to brutes, men who despise you, enslave you - who regiment your lives, tell you what to do what to think and what to feel, who drill you, diet you, treat you like cattle, use you as cannon fodder. Don't give yourselves to these unnatural men, machine men, with machine minds and machine hearts. You are not machines, you are not cattle. You are men. You have the love of humanity in your hearts. You don't hate only the unloved hate. The unloved and the unnatural. Soldiers - don't fight for slavery, fight for liberty. In the seventeenth chapter of Saint Luke it is written: "the kingdom of God is within man". Not one man, nor a group of men - but in all men - in you. You the people have the power, the power to create machines, the power to create happiness. You the people have the power to make this life free and beautiful, to make this life a wonderful adventure. Then in the name of democracy let us use that power - let us all unite. Let us fight for a new world, a decent world that will give men a chance to work,that will give you the future and old age and security. By the promise of these things, brutes have risen to power, but they lie. They don't fulfill that promise, they never will. Dictators free themselves but they enslave the people. Now let us fight to fulfill that promise. Let us fight to free the world, to do away with national barriers, to do away with greed, with hate and intolerance. Let us fight for a world of reason, a world were science and progress will lead to all men's happiness. Soldiers - in the name of democracy, let us all unite!" ~Charlie Chaplin
Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 11:04 PM UTC
Helen.
Tell me about Turkey. Mustafakemalpasa. Bursa. Canakkale. Bandirma. 1973. Tell me about your insane exchange family: Ilhan, Sennur, Ahmet, and Canur. Falling for the family friend, Necdet—who died six short years later. Swimming in the Sea of Marmara. That infamous yellow bikini. 110 in the shade. Smelling the drying tobacco. Learning how to read the Koran. Tell me please, Helen.
Jun 5, 2011
Jun 5, 2011 at 12:56 PM UTC
you blew a hole through my chest
with your shotgun smile
as i sipped from a cup
of ruin and destruction.
maybe that's how i contracted pneumonia
on the seventeenth of september
and maybe that's why my lungs are corroding
and my voice is gone.
because there's a hole in my chest
the size of you
and it's drafty today
as the wind whistles through me
singing a song
that sounds like crying.
(a.m.c.)
Oct 5, 2014
Oct 5, 2014 at 10:41 PM UTC
It’s the seventeenth of July
Another year passed by
As I am writing this today
I gaze up with my eye
there i see a beautiful sight
starlight gleaming, clouds flying high
among them shines my moon in the sky
it’s then when I drown in a dream
suddenly, by the breeze’s lullaby
I startle when I see the moon up high
startled for the moon were you my Gul
among all the stars you folded around
you shone the brightest, most beautiful
It’s the seventeenth of July
This year that passed by
is the best i’ve ever lived by
and the dream I saw in the reality of stars
is the life I’m living amidst all them dreams
This year that passed, it felt like a dream
for never did i ever imagine of finding my love
but now i have you and I’ll do better than try
to protect you always, Yes I’ll do it or die
You are my Gul, my most beautiful
with you in my life, my garden is full
your beauty my Fatima Gul is irrefutable
i’ve fallen for you for countless times
that what cannot be described in lines
since my love, you stepped into my life
I’m captured, captivated, mesmerized alive
I want you like the soil needs the rain
I want you like the stars want to shine
I want you like the rain wants to pour
I want you like the sun wants to warm
I want you to the millionth degree of infinity
I want you Always and forever
for we’re destined together
I’m yours alone with all that I am
with all the love instilled in me
I’m yours my love till eternity
you are my home and in you i reside
I entrust myself to you, in you in confide
My love I’m blessed by your existence
for every moment we spent together
for all the beautiful moments to live ahead
for all the memories we have and we’ll make
I’m happiest that I have you my love
I love you I love you I love you my Fatima Gul
I wish i could embrace you in my arms
I wish I could be with you today
Happiest birthday to you the love of my life
I love you till the millionth degree of eternity 💞
17th of July 2022
Jul 26, 2022
Jul 26, 2022 at 2:02 PM UTC
When he was born his father was drunk,
his mother was doped up.
He was born three months early with double pneumonia,
but he lived.
Growing up, his father would put down the bottle
only to hit him and his mother.
For some reason, he wasn't sure, his sister and brother were spared.
His father died when he was eleven.
His father killed himself with the same pistol he killed two Japanese men with. His mother remarried, with no job, experience, or even a drivers license, she had to remarry quick.
His stepfather put down the bottle only long enough to hit him and his mother. This time, his sister and brother were not spared.
Two weeks after his seventeenth birthday, he learned to play while my guitar gently weeps on a third hand guitar his stepfather had spent a fifth of his monthly salary buying.
He made money playing guitar. He wasn't the best, no Eddie Van Halen, no Eric Clapton. He did without the flashy showmanship. He had something called dependability. He was never late for an audition, he never ****** up an audition, he never fought with his band mates.
Driving home from a gig thirteen days after his twenty second birthday, a drunk teenager in a pickup truck plowed into him at an intersection.
He spent 5 weeks in the hospital. Doped up the whole time. When they let him leave, he left with a plate in his head and a monkey on his back.
For three years he lived on the streets. He'd play his guitar on the corner by the CBGBs for change. He'd take that change and buy ****** After three years, exactly three years of this, he realized he could play guitar better sober. He stopped using.
He got an associates degree in English, a concentration in teaching.
He taught English and Beginning Guitar at the same high school he hid his bruises at years earlier. He had favorite students, how could he not? They were always hiding bruises.
Mar 12, 2016
Mar 12, 2016 at 11:07 PM UTC
You came from The Cape of Good Hope
the land of proteas, frangipani and antelope
I was there but not in the seventeenth century
rather, I waited for you to arrive from history
Your dark violet blue flowers looked my way
as though they had something special to say
they said that you will deny me three times
whe you arrive in these wonderful climes
But there I was amongst beautiful flowers
amazing in the place where Shaw said:
that, 'They have no scent and the birds have
no song,' even great men err - he was wrong
I t was a time of transition, bright light
not only dark magical blooms but pure white
May 13, 2016
May 13, 2016 at 4:09 PM UTC
awoke from a dream last Wednesday
strangely refreshing and uplifting
resounding in music
the notes still reverberating on my heartstrings
it was the first dream of my brother
since his passing
it may be my first dream of him ever
he was laying in bed
contemplating his demise
don’t know if he was speaking before or after the fact
guess it really doesn’t matter
with one simple sentence
and just a hint of anger
“Life is stupid”, he said.
implying remorse and resentment
for still having so much to do
I backed away to give him his privacy
as I readied myself for work
he got up out of bed and found me
happy and smiling, a sparkle in his eyes and teeth
corroborated his contentment
he was walking around the house playing his guitar
it was acoustic and unplugged
but the sound was electric
he was playing a Mexican folksong
his ex-wife appeared, singing the refrain:
“Ay, ay, ay, ay, canta y no llores
por qué cantando se alegran
Cielito Lindo, los corazones” 1
his song struck a chord whose message was immediate:
“sing and don’t cry
for singing gladdens the heart”
his daughter’s seventeenth birthday is today
with a party this weekend
timing is often coincidental
but it seems to me
this message was for her
and everyone at the gathering
for those who would listen
Terence would tell us:
“Life is stupid...so sing and don’t cry”
Feb 20, 2011
Feb 20, 2011 at 10:46 AM UTC
Turning up and down in the wind-every single crane I folded
On the seventeenth day of the fifth month
I took you to go see the gardens
To see the orchids bloom
White Purple and blue
Hanging leaves
Trees like statues on a night without wind
The ghost festival
It was dark in the perfumed gardens
Velvet purple sky
We sat and listened to the far off music
The sound of drums
Traveling along the gurgling river
Sitting down on the edge of a rock
You were laughing and smoking one of my cigarettes
Those wisps of smoke curling around
And the flick flick of your ash on a rock
You thought you were so cool sitting there like Joplin, all strung out and white looking like Courtney love
Your knee high socks
Are smeared in mud and pollen
Just then the music all stopped at the festival down the river
Except for some lone flute playing a haunting other-worldy melody
As we sat looking on the calm purple waters
The children and old women took small paper boats with candles inside
The mothers and the fathers
The sisters and cousins Uncles and brothers
All knee deep in the darkened waters
Pushing those small glowing ships down the river
Leading all those lost souls and spirits
The ghosts of this year's dead flowing out to sea
Like a fleet of stars they slowly drifted
Water reflecting the hundreds of candles
That crescent moon looked so right above the spirits
I watched them clear the bend
- Without taking a breath-
Until you laughed and flicked your cigarette **** into the still water
Ripples of moonlight
Talking about yourself in the dark
Somewhere down the river the music started again
Jan 20, 2012
Jan 20, 2012 at 5:16 AM UTC
universe, displace from me
this trauma in the breaking
of my father’s favorite scotch glass
for it is simpler to clear glass shards
from the dishwasher and laminate tile
than ventricular shrapnel from my chest
eyebrows
straight as a net
keep me serving lets
racquet, arm, the ball
is all i don't know
40-love
scoreboard soothsayer
divining the true value
of affectionate devotion
game, set, deuce off the bat
[wrong sport]
my serve is in returning
paper bags brimming
with your belongings
(our volleys never lasted)
game, set, match
[applause]
Jan 28, 2014
Jan 28, 2014 at 9:21 PM UTC
The day began with tears of emotion and excitement,
And all set in His plan predestined ever before His creation
That two little souls would be united for a purpose
With God it would be revealed, but to mankind, hidden always.
Twenty four milestones have been crossed with thorns and roses trod,
No mortal on their rescue was prepared to seek them into safe arms;
Yet it is HE Who has carried the twain souls in His Arms.
Mockery lashed at them; stones pelted at them; rivalry set ‘gainst them;
Stories cooked ‘gainst them; venom spewed at them,
It was God-sent angels who hid them in their wings.
Predators set to eat their flesh and blood but in vain,
For it is His Providence That carried them in His *****
They crossed sixteen milestones, and on the way to Seventeenth,
God revealed His plan unto them with a Gift from His Arms,
And three souls have been added into His Fold.
Dec 19, 2011
Dec 19, 2011 at 9:05 AM UTC
You are a sprawling backyard
and I am a toddler
and I just learned how to run
You are a four inch thick piece of plexiglass
and I am a wild animal trapped behind you.
You are a seventeenth century novel
and I am not making sense.
Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 7:48 PM UTC
I keep dreaming of falling.
Sinking through clouds and bleeding skies,
The winds don't hold me and oxygen chokes me.
I wish you'd taught me how to fly.
Is a home still a home when your hat rack is gone?
Does the sun still rise without the dawn?
I'd paint the sunset, but I've lost my muse,
I'd claw at my heart, but you took that too.
I'd forget about you, but memories haunt me,
They creep into my bed, whispering softly,
Remember when we broke your mom's TV?
Or our anniversary, on April Seventeenth?
I'd pay for your piano lessons so you could sing to stars,
Okay so maybe not stars, but surely fast moving cars?
How about a trip to Eiffel Tower far off in Rome,
Fine, I guess we could always see that from home.
Your books don't make me smile, come back to bed,
You'll be just a minute, hold on, you said,
I held on to your silk quilt and fell asleep,
You said you'd follow me, before I was in too deep.
You should have told me you'd fall asleep differently,
That I would wake, and that you would stay,
I mean sure, I would have protested adamantly,
But then I'd have no choice but to let you stay.
I guess now we'll never get to see the Eiffel Tower,
It's fine anyway; I hear the air up there is sour.
And we'll never get to sing to fast moving cars,
It's okay; at least this way no potential scars.
I fixed your mom's broken TV screen,
And I got a new apartment down in Queens,
Your phone keeps on uninstalling,
And I keep dreaming of falling.
Jan 29, 2017
Jan 29, 2017 at 1:08 AM UTC
...my seventeenth drink in two hours
when my head went from resting peacefully in your lap
to hung over the toilet seat I somehow managed to get to in time
vomiting self-hatred and cheap *****
that I realized I should have eaten something that day.
...you asked about the sixty-two marks on my arm
that I purposely (drunkenly) left in plain sight,
unconsciously hoping someone would ask if I was okay,
that I realized you would be anything to me
but nothing hits harder than the fact that
despite "your understanding of how I'm feeling"
I still wanted to die of 200% alcohol in my bloodstream.
...we were lying on the cold, hardwood floor
with your arm under my head and your lips pressed to my neck
(although I'm not sure if that actually happened)
that I realized I could be happy even at my lowest.
...we woke up the next morning,
next to each other but not touching,
that I realized the night before was a one time thing
and even though you saw me at my worst,
all you really know is my first name
and that I have hundreds of scars on my left inner arm and both my hips,
but you didn't say a word to me all morning.
Sep 29, 2014
Sep 29, 2014 at 5:36 PM UTC
Lines aflow and about
rushed to welcome thee
and the bundle in thy hand
pushing buttons that said;
Hey!!!
Look straight
This poem is unread,
Unrevealed and strange
Hold tight....
Hold tight you did
This mama rare
In tears, pain and joy
you provided and chastened
leaping at the tiniest of successes
pushing boldness forth
caring like we were just one
but as for one, you did for all
with the grace on you
that I desire an inch.
those from that blessed womb
this sojourn is sweeter 'cos of you
#Losechukwu and Uweoma
my CEO's and executive minsters
You sweet-talked me to victory
#Ebubechukwu and Obianinulu
My pretty sisters from one blessed mother
Prof and Wizzy- Brain
being an Oduwegwu born Female would have been Boring without you guys
Friends, sweethearts, mentors, Fathers, Mothers, brothers and sisters. I wonder the turn my life would have taken without you guys.
Dadddyyy
I mentioned you last, cos I didn't know if the space above would be enough.
My Hero, Mentor, Teacher, Provider
You are many things in one thing
breaking odds and making roads
soothing our pain from afar
Daddy mi
I appreciate you
Having you is more than an inspiration
Words flee for fear
From your personality great
so stop I must against my wish
SUCF UNICAL & DLCF UNICAL
God has blessed me through you, turning the frightened little girl into a confident woman right under your roof.
Space is pleading
and heed I must
for future chances I crave
and deny it can
but God knows my heart
He's been faithful and true
Giving me new chances
With each dawn of the day
I'm grateful for life
and chances about
Living till this day, is only from Grace
Grandmother divine
Nnemukwu onye efoma
I appreciate you!!!
Sharing this month with you
Is fulfilling and uplifting
You birthed the best and prettiest woman I know # C O Oduwegwu
Moulded her with thy hands
and taught her to groom us
I'm grateful for your birth.
Inspiration and strength
I draw from your life
When the day comes to go
You'll pass with smiles
Finally I stop
but I wish not so
but Gladness overflows
and you I must mention
My Children in DLBC Afia-eze
I love you guys
Your laughter, creativity & high-spirit
Bring strength to my bones.
Oct 17, 2015
Oct 17, 2015 at 4:39 PM UTC