I called you my Ruth,but you refused Ruth to RootYour name is like a silver spoon,but you prefer to be called back of a pot that is as dark as charcoalYou are Ruthless from birthYou have no Root called Ruth. I prefer to stand strong on the ground,but you've sent a strong wind to uproot meForcing me to change my name from Ruth to RootBut you've never allowed your friend to change his name from Ghost to SpiritThereby eating the Corn from Maize. I'm a humble bee,But do not allow me BeFor the Charity is now VanityTaking the van to eternityRefusing to kiss the Jesus Crossbut received a certificate of kissing your man's cross. I have traveled to Cross River,thereby crossing the river with crossVisiting Ruth in the Rootless state,Causing the head to bow like a respected axe. Dear Ruthless,allow me to visit you at University of CalabarWhere i will gain admission to study calabash in the University Traveling from Owerri to TalibanTo uproot the repented Bokoharam whose name are not Ruth but Rootless in nature...
This poem is about:
Guide that inspired this poem:
Need to talk?
If you ever need help or support, we trust CrisisTextline.org for people dealing with depression. Text HOME to 741741