I intend to do the usual things.
A flower from an unguarded garden.
I will ex-communicate all my appointed flings.
For You- You have shown, my plate, with love and care it’d very laden.
I’ll hold the dreams up like, herculen, and wonder what it brings.

Am sure, your mind has registered all this, and plentiful.
Told in different forms, and detailed, in dissloving coulours, that have transformed me into a fool.

Like the dying drizzle.
Or that sunny patch.
Like that very sickly drizzle.
And that rosy, red , butterfly sucked up patch.

I have nothing to give you.
My mouths have been consecrated to the ex of what can pass as True.
I’ll burn candles? But that was last year, with such startlin flowery hue.
I will buy you some cake candies, made just for You.
I have nothing to give you.

Although I have nothing to say,
I hope this would exempt Thou’s allegiance with Cliche.

One thought on “Cliche” by Nelson c.j (@Chetty)

  1. i just want to comment with two words…. “Nice One”

Leave a Reply