UNDER A SPELL

When all is sad and done
Truth lies on you clumsily
Against you it’s all mad up

Love hates you so badly
In hell you’re in heaven
Mine eyes have sin it all

Cut up in the rupture
In the mist of my foes
True friends are had to find

Every day a new stat
Just role with the blow
Role with the blow, stranger
Not even a manger protects from danger
When people know you can see their soul
They mind.

So read your friends with fear
Your foes with care
The ability is rare.

– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.

PS: there are no spelling errors in this poem.

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