CLOSE TREES

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These nice warm arms

Were not made as arms

Yours are huge

Sweet refuge

Please let me

Run in and be

These nice mouths

Weren’t made for shouts

Yours are thick

Sweet for my pick

Please close it

And let mine fit

The hands of time

Has caused no crime

But it walks with no rest

And hopes through the forest

Of life of endless sufferings with tick tock crest

III

So please me

Let me please you

As we grope

In the darkness with hope

Tags #AFRICAN WRITERS, love, POETRY.

By amoafowaa

Just a simple Ghanaian trying to find the best in our society. I may be fun, I may be interesting, I may be funny, I may even be foolish or intelligent, but it is all based on the mood in which you find yourself. I believe our minds make us who we are. Know that, pain, no matter its 'unbearability', is transient. Unburden or delight yourself for a while in my writings please. And all corrections, advice and opinions are welcome. Know that you are the king, queen or royal on this blog. :)

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