Bird in Hand
23rd June, 2015 Writers
I acquired you 
Pretty singer, 
And my heart was full
With your coloured feathers.

Even before I let out 
My shillings, 
We corresponded -

For but foul contempt, 
To own ones I can not get, 
I put to judgement.
Our love into hatred, crept. 

My stubborn human;
That which mean to mock me
My very being. 

A moment, your beaker
I was pulled to before hand
And remembered
How our hearts rhymed together. 
Sure I will tame me, 
Put myself to order, 
To love you
Like before; but not others. 
Delta, Nigeria
  • Poem: "a bird in hand is worth millions in the bush" How much do you value that which you have and build on it or do you see that which belongs to someone else and envy it?

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