This is a baring of my heart.
Let no one bark up a wrong girth.
Actually thought i would bide the time
And make the best use of my tympan
So that my spirit would never breathe down your neck.
There wouldn't be a need for building bridges.
I won't burn my fingers.
My act isn't to cramp your style.
But i request you cut the cackle.
Life wouldn't give room for a dive in headlong.
If leaving now sends a sad note, i eat a frog.
Am here on my knees, pardon my french.
After am gone, never have a reason for fiddling while Rome drench.
Ain't writing this to fish for compliment.
Wouldn't give a taste of your own medicine.
This is a lick into shape.
It's only to make a light of what's to come.
This might be the last chance
To appreciate and learn the prance
Before I fold the talent
And unfold the Pent.
If you wake up tomorrow
And see my marrow
Without me in the part that look narrow
Know that there's no cause to experience sorrow
Because if I die tomorrow
I go see him who's my marrow.
Badge 📛 by @gbenga
An impressive & subtle poem...
Like this couplet:
"This might be the last chance
To appreciate and learn the prance
Before I fold the talent
And unfold the Pent."
Thanks for sharing, @nuges ... 😍
Hello @zaimrofigi
Thank God you are someone that love poem niche, I love seeing those that understand the niche commenting on my posts. Thanks for stopping by.