BOYS IN HALLWAY
The hallway stinks when it's grey
Silence yells like ripples
Wind scurries footsteps into corners.
Bodies are graves on cold floor,
Their worries are rosebuds fluffing in morning rays;
Their cries are knocks on doors—
Subtle, daring, seeking home in mumbles.
The boys are poems of dearth,
Couplets of glittering fantasies,
Pages of broken verses
Lost like a gaggle of empty dreams,
Finding God, finding miracles.
©Timileyin Adepoju
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