The Lone Room
The lone room brings you—
Smelling the odour of adieu,
Just in the mirror I stand;
With the passage heart like strand
For this moment—
You flow in my heart like torrent,
Pushing out the feeling;
Arising to the ceiling
Heaven rejoices for you—
Yes dad! The due is a clue,
The way you left me;
Was not what to agree.
Copyright © Akinloye Gbajero Sunday | Year Posted 2024
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