The Clinic's Call
My heart bled with every step I took,
That I’s tormented for my love with hake.
The clinic's call was a pit on my way,
A bitter form of the loss I needed to pay.
Some innocents were crucified for what unknown,
Echoed my own pain
—as I faced the unknown.
Tears fell like autumn rain, as I searched for a reprieve;
But like a ghost, my hopes vanished
—leaving only grief to retrieve.
My conscience screamed,
"Why must I suffer so?"
Yet still, I held on to love,
my only solace,
my heart's last glow.
Copyright © Akinloye Gbajero Sunday | Year Posted 2024
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