The Giver Poem by Kevin Chison Osuji

Slow and slow I pace young and casual
The sun glaring her glittery face
Glowering Through her skin-peeling visual
Atop my fading sepia carapace

Blue Ocean come scraping down his cheeks
An old man from canaan pale and weak
In his Watering oculus hedge have leaks
Slow and slow the clock of demise tick

Lone staff wedge his weakening slouch
Slow and slow he scratch the barren land
'spare me a drink lest I die' he touch
In victory smiles I clench his shivering hand

Slow and slow I give the jar
Slow and slow I die afar