Delicacy
Our so called "heart"
Is so delicate,
That we don't need,
Big boulders to cramble it.
Our so called "mind"
Is so delicate,
That we don't need,
Many mouth to disturb the very sleep.
Our so called "eye"
I so delicate,
That we don't need,
Many cramps to enter it.
Our so called "existence"
Is so delicate,
That we never know,
When and how will it fade away.
Emmanuel Boniface Bona Peter
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 10/18/2020
Poet's note: A very delicate glass fell from my hands and broke into pieces as I was preparing tea for my self that beautiful evening, afterwards, I realised that we also have some delicacy in our nature as humans.
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