A Poem Without End

A Poem Without End

How many years will it take one to read a poem that has no end?

A year?

A decade?

Century?

I need an answer!

 

At crossroad

Where old wrappers meet,

Where footprints from four different worlds intersect.

I read, read and read

Till my barren chin

Finally evoke some milky white beard

Till my sagging flesh

Becomes too heavy for my aging bones.

 

My eyes bulging out,

Seeking for freedom

Like a King rejecting the throne of his kingdom.

 

Ke’ere oooo!

To the Natives and wayfarers,

If you find the Poet who wrote this poem,

Tell him he had done a great job.

Tell him I lost my sight

Just for ready his short poem

That has no end.

 

At crossroad!



2 thoughts on “A Poem Without End” by Gideon Oyediji (@gswagz)

  1. it a nice write up
    your second to last line, do you mean ready or reading?

  2. It is indeed a nice one though without end
    and reading tough fun for I could red forever

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