Ijoma

Let me go back and eat my bones in the forest than,
Feeding me with grass and wheat;
What? ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Don't you have heaters in this room? !
This place is too cold for me.
Ijoma, for how long have you been living in this room?
But, what can i say?
For you are like the big black spider in your own room.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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