Ex Poem by Reginald Ruwende

Pardon me,
Neither would I have heard the soothsayers whispering
Nor the chiming bells of Zion beckoning
Itinerary unclear,
Destination unknown,
Aboard you came
To ruin inured you became
I were,
But a train trailing enroute to destiny DELIGHT
Speedy yachts to nowhere prompted you to alight

If heavens above could make you feel
A feel of how you made me feel
The nausea of terse, one word responses
Texts which to respond you never deigned
Sexts lost, in your reign that rained
Tickled perhaps by trickling traces of my pain
Thence a perfunctory kiss preceded by a petulant apology

To a blase be the bliss
To a ride be the stride
To a slide be the glide
To a strangle be the tangle
To rest be the zest
To a blast be the bust
To dust be the dust
Once jolted,
Forever a lover jilted