Strangers' Gallery

My beauty queen,
My sweet lover;
You told me that you will be my shelter!
But, you've now broken the promise.

Of an experimental satellite of love,
With the broad-ways of things to share;
But now you've broken the promise.

You are forever gone into the woods! !
With no trace to direct my ways;
For, you are now like the strangers' gallery.

What really went wrong with you? !
And like Estrads's trial adjourned;
With chiefs and no stooges,
But, try to present your virginity before your marriage.

To tore down your sexual desires!
But primitive to an ethical cell;
For, you told me that you will be my shelter! !
But, you've now broken the promise.

I am not a toy to be pulled about like a string!
So, do not burn your hands in this fire!
For, you are now gone forever into the woods;
And like the litany of naked instances in the land of trouble.

poem by Edward Kofi Louis
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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