The Dreamer

By Frederick Elumah 3 weeks ago


Even my smiles weeps and speaks in the silence of renounced pronouncements,

a rumbling diddles of astonished enchantment,

My life had always been a story,

Even gods aren’t interested in the chants of its praise,

I have grown to become a suicide dreamer,

High above the skies are my crawling hopes,

When my dad first asked me what i wanted to become,

My ambition was belittled in caves of my cranium,

I wanted to be a prince, a royalty without a princely bloodline,

Now the world is shattered,

my emptiness had grown wings,

I now have a changed heart and thought,

Though tedious in its ambiguity,

I now wish to be a writer,

But in spirituality and religion i have laid a pillar,

On toilet rolls and cellophane at dump i started,

My heads on book and on candle i burn,

With no result to show,

My poems develops into colorful inks,

Like an action called in a movie strip,

Age are no longer on my side,

My parents scold awaiting for fruity alerts,

My babes sincerity were built on gifts and figures beyond reasonable payroll,


Things aren't just the way God wants them to be,

I have come to realize that spirituality without mentality is absolute stupidity,

My stupidity has gone viral even beyond the tearing of cloths,

The sorrow of my deserts now echoes with no full stop,

In my extremity and corner place i awake to be born to the world with all these issues at my left hand,

Choice have to be made

Recommended Stories:

{{item.User.FullName}} {{item.Date | preetify}}



{{sub.User.FullName}} {{sub.Date | preetify}}



Frederick Elumah
Other posts by the writer:
Trending Stories:
create stories


{{item.Date | preetify}}

No Notifications Here Yet