Tossed about
By woe waves he staggered
Towards a refuse dump.
He stumbled -
Broken bottles, pails lay ahead.
"Who's there? he muttered
Along Hues Lane
He fell, rolled, sighed
(Bottle in hand). Possessed...
Slept, dreamt
He's woken
By jeers of curious crowd.
- Adeshina
http://olusanya1.blogspot.com/
Friday, June 27, 2008
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