I think,
he'd gradually dug his hole:
Along a finger-sized of my window
Last week he had came too often,
Almost everyday,he'd been bitting me
And leaving me some serious warnings
As a seer would do over a lurking doom
He had his plans but i never yielded
First it came as a joke nobody laugh at
when i felt a dizziness i couldnt relate
Like nobody knows how it feels within
For a virgin to free her monthly pains
As the dead too dont know it well,
how helpless their mouth be at death
And the night in which i think,
The devil snatched the details from him
Was this last night i felt all my bones
Got weak from this hell flogged sweating
It refused to stop untill that day broke
The man i am seeing in the mirror is not me
At last i am sick and i am going to die?
Is anyone praying for me in the next door?
O what can the living do?
Well,i am waiting for my concoction
To be cooked――
Some herbs and a little barks of trees
Cooking up slowly on burning smokes
An african man would always survive
I think i am right if i say,
this is the worst malaria i've ever had,
i mean this rainy season of year 2020.
Malaria
Adebayo Sir Toby
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 06/16/2020
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Poem topics: death, mirror, never, sick, joke, weak, finger, mouth, door, laugh, Season, worst, devil, year, survive, everyday, window, Valentine's Day, african, night, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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