Poetry from Samuel Dayo

When We Are Just An Ostentation

If her lip was a sweet
I could crave to have it in mine always
After she stole my heart 
And set it on mountains
That springs water from depth.

Love sometimes looks like flower
While sometimes; the black ball in your eye.
That very day was another walk
Into heavens
But when everything seize
I rerely believe we're just an ostentation
Which is very otiose.


Tales of past has match in
The present as I lingers into the simile
And antonyms of bliss
I snore out the hue of constellations
And held my pillow as the saviour
That dries up the streams on my face.

Can you decipher the joy gotten
From a crippled comic
Or that of the lurch in lurid?

A pellucid hope has made hay
For the future
Only if it will catch reflections.