It’s not in me,
to know how to love you
I don’t know much
I just know when you are sorry
When the creases on your forehead melt into soft skin
And not even the silence that comes
after a lunch meal
matches the words that fail to come
out of your soft lips
I am a bad student
I forgot to remember the title of this poem when I started
But in the morning,
I smiled at the sun,
hoping it’d smile back
I know joy is not a gift
That’s why my words will be grease that softens your heart
And when I’ve been knocked out by life
My legs will always find ways to knock on your door.
This is Lucky’s Poem. Click on the provided names and other contests below to view other Notable’s content
Bard Mwendwa’s Poem
Newton’s Poem
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