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?