Alas! Behold this poetic quill
Is loud and noisy like a hornbill
That always has songs to trill
It never sleeps nor stands still
Never runs out of lands to till
Never runs out of seeds to spill
Always working the poetic mill
It inspires, strengthens and instill
Hope by utilizing wisdom and skill
To revive dreams circumstances kill
Those with woes that make them ill
Will find the cure is my poetic pill

Alas! Behold this poetic quill
To those struggling to climb life’s hill
It offers warmth from winds that chill
To those who have nothing but swill
It nourishes souls with rhymes that fill
This river never ever stops flowing until
There are no murky waters to distill
From life stresses that taunt and grill
From the many ignorant minds that drill
From ghost of past that haunt and shrill
From hopelessness with words that thrill
Indeed a Poetic sanctuary to elope at will

Copyright © Bernard Owor

Disclaimer: The image used herein is taken from the Internet. Due appreciation and credit is acknowledged for the same.

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