the making of a persona poem
By Chiagoziem Jideofor I miss home. I am old enough to have unleashed all sternness, wear out my leather skin. I am made of this dirt, mold a mother rejects. I’ve got guns, corked guns I am unwilling to show.…
By Chiagoziem Jideofor I miss home. I am old enough to have unleashed all sternness, wear out my leather skin. I am made of this dirt, mold a mother rejects. I’ve got guns, corked guns I am unwilling to show.…