Sad Sunday story

Sad Sunday story

On Sunday morning, right in hour before sunrise
On divan, he sat thinking and smiling like the sun,
So exquisite, there she was lying on the white duvet
Translucent to his white walls
White cottons and white bedspread,
Stretching, joint citing, yearning and turning like a baby
Gently saying sorry to the white ceiling like a dying frog,
So beautiful from all angles, a nice animation he felt
Lovely, she is an angel in a white transparent sleeping gown.

On Sunday evening just in time as sunset
On a bar bench he sit in an expression of grief
Filling an empty cup and replacing the finish bottles
Looking stone white in dark affection,
Lonely, no more her around to keep the ice-cold duvet warm
In pieces shattered she so haunt him inside
Laughing and crying saying goodbye with a chameleon color,
Drinking, smoking and reminiscing, best strategy he feels
To preside over and kill memories of a sad Sunday story.


By Onyeche Vincent onyeka
© 2010 http://onyecheonyeka.wordpress.com