₦airaland Forum

Title : The father I Had

The body of a man is a soil upon which a household is built.
His hands is a fertile soil that grows all that his family needs.
The barn of his pocket stores the needs of his household.
So, father embarks on a daily journey of filling his barns.
.
As the cock sings the dirge of the dying night
And the ode of the king that comes bearing the days light;
Father rises from the grave of his sleep
For yet another day to go grow the needs of his house.

Someday, Father forces his body into the court of a fury sun,
Who gladly pass judgement on his once fresh skin
Other days, the saliva of the cloud is spat on him
So he return home with his drenched body, shivering.

Each day , as the sun goes home for a night rest
Father also return home with smile masking his tired body.

poetictwenty:
Title : The father I Had

The body of a man is a soil upon which a household is built.
His hands is a fertile soil that grows all that his family needs.
The barn of his pocket stores the needs of his household.
So, father embarks on a daily journey of filling his barns.
.
As the cock sings the dirge of the dying night
And the ode of the king that comes bearing the days light;
Father rises from the grave of his sleep
For yet another day to go grow the needs of his house.

Someday, Father forces his body into the court of a fury sun,
Who gladly pass judgement on his once fresh skin
Other days, the saliva of the cloud is spat on him
So he return home with his drenched body, shivering.

Each day , as the sun goes home for a night rest
Father also return home with smile masking his tired body.

Nice poem
Keep it up