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Do Not Ask Me To Love You If You Will Not Change My Name. 37-39

I am a poet, a realist, a youtuber and an author. I have published a poetry eBook of forty seven poems. I am also a relationship expert.

do-not-ask-me-to-love-you-if-you-will-not-change-my-name-37-39

Why can I not lie.

Why can I not lie?

Why can I not lie?
I wish I can lie,
The flowers in the field smile beautifully at me,
When all I know is a dump lie you say to me,
What shall I say to them?

I am madly in love with a lie,
You lie to eat and drink because
It makes you grow subtle like snakes.
I face the world with a strong fear because I lie,
And the lies I speak are actually not my lies,
But the lies you vomited
When I did not know what lie is.

I will stop you,
When you say again - I love you,
Because I know,
It is my bed to a lonely life,
Yes I shall stop you.
But you are here again with a sponged tongue,
And I smell nothing.

It is a pity I cannot lie,
I wish I can lie,
When I say- I love you.
Then I shall not be miserable;
Will my future not be a lie?
Who can lie?
Come out and tell me:
It will be different.

You spit falsehood on my bread,
And I swallow it with pleasure,
And it suppresses my truth,
Because I grow in lies,
Am I growing well?
Who shall I ask?
The one who feeds me the lies?
Or the one who does not eat lies?

Why can I not lie?
I wish I can lie,
I will tell you how handsome you are,
But your big head is your lamp,
That is why you love it,
I am sorry I cannot lie,
I wish I can lie.

do-not-ask-me-to-love-you-if-you-will-not-change-my-name-37-39

Silence me

Silence me.

Silence me chioma,
Silence me.
I cuddle for your wet lips,
Knowing they will kill me:
What is death without you?
Your touch is metal,
It tears my skin and I bleed love.

Sosoliso is the language I speak,
When I am in your arms:
Why can I not dream without you?
My food are thoughts of you in dinner wear,
My books form your nightie as I place them on my bed.

I am a walking naughty man
As I stare at my lecturer,
The reminiscence of your scent,
Drives me back to wonderland
And I call everything in skirt: Chioma.
What kind of man am I?
I am a man in a love shaped coffin.

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Paper Napkin

Paper Napkin.

It is soft, it is silky,
It is warm, it is pure,
Clean like a plant that blossoms from a tall tree,
It is difficult to place it on dirt,
Because a stain can ruin it.


It is so sad for you,
Because you would have loved to be placed anywhere,
So you can experience the joy of life and change,
I am sorry but I cannot do this to you,
I would be wicked to stain you.

But here comes a man who does not care about you,
But his dirty hands,
Wipe it off and die: He tells you.
I wish he saw your tears,
When you dropped into the bin,
It is a pity he cannot see it.

I told you did I not?
If you had listened and remained in the pack;
On the shelve I picked you from:
Life would have been different for you,
But you felt you were missing out,
When your friends never came back.

It is a pity I told you,
I shouldn't have,
Then you would have died saying,
''If I was told it would have been different"
But now you were told,
So death is more painful.

O how short your life is,
It is a pity you did not give birth,
I would have nursed your child now you are gone,
And I would have made it a better napkin.


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© 2020 Jade George Anibor