Beetle petals
Scented like Morning glory
The wheel of the moment; two but pedal
Gently pushing the Will of tomorrow’s story
The hope that it wouldn’t be my own shadow
Drops of Beetle petals falling
Swaying by the platinum café peek
Coffee, Camera, down the stairs to the moonlight walking
A phone call with drunken sounds of the lost love leak
At the Triangle coupled with visual nutrition and chatting
Beetles
By Buganda Road
A red cross from afar glows
Down by Central Police Station, the passion load
A token shared grows
31st August the first month anniversary;
Pieces of broken petals in my hand
Only God knows this is but a test
This morning’s face lying on the sand
The last tear drop kissing Augusts’ nest
Imagined it would be your hand
Forever in times worse and best
Yet fate crashes the beetle petals
And there they lay in my hand
The wind blows them away
I take a deep breath
For 31 seconds with Beetles is like a million moons of Christmas play
And that moment will forever live till death.
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