CRYING FLOWER.

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A flower is shedding tears
Deep in the heart jungle of Africa,
No water to sustain its innate thirst.
Green canopies of serenity walked out on her,
Planting predicaments and adversities at every juncture;
Can you feel the flower cry?

It no longer feel the apsis;
Ocean of joy subside
In frowning oasis,
Beauty of life in its antithesis –
Cyclone of thoughts and winter of agony;
Its prognosis…

I’m made of life’s shredded tales.
They can’t find me a better place,
Thus, buy reserve spaces for me in obituaries,
For within my existence, I feel no exuberance…
I watch the sun tuck its belly
In the clouds
As I cry..

©Jay Chronicles Njirimanh 2018.

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