Posterity – A Poem by Scot Eritemu www.ringroad.com.ng
Sometimes I wonder;
when shriveled words become grey,
when pictures will not say,
when sweat becomes rain,
would these thoughts soothe their pain?
Perhaps its a little vain;
to think this piece would bring me fame
Or hope on a perfect day;
to cross these streets and hear my name
But whoso list to hunt;
these leaves of grass,
these words I pass;
I would die gladly for a dime,
and trade sweet nectar for lime
To know that know in a far away place,
in a future time,
The thoughts they hold dear,
are pieces of mine
Now that these words are told,
I would gladly,
take your gold
If only,
you will not withhold
Scot
Hope you all liked the poem?