Karen

Disillusioned with the dwarf fruit trees,
And with the seeds and tools to march on to my farm;
But, how could you not get enough of my love?

The doorbells rang as i was carrying my bags to the front door,
There i met Karen without having a second thought!
But don't be disillusioned with the dwarf fruit trees around.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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