The Comforter Poem by Baforkah Shaibu

The Comforter



It is bent not broken
It is scratched not cracked
Asleep with eyes wide open

The catalyst comforter of our second selves
Seldom pacify the untamed melodies
With its croons of eternal peace,
Lying at the bosom of the master.

Friday, June 27, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: Love
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Baforkah Shaibu

Baforkah Shaibu

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