When will he stop
Persecuting that guitar
His voice is hoarse
It hurts me
It digs a hole in my armour
Roughly
And scoops me out
Hoarsely
I wish I could remember him
In my dream tonight
When silence is wall
Enclosing me, she’s gone
His voice is gruff
A street musician
Enjoying his moment on stage
Roughly.
– Che Chidi Cjukwumerije.
