Thomas Hardy..
Hardly,
As she dated her ex again anyway,
Feeding on lies,
Himself lying all time around…
Both believing it anyway…
People never fall in love
with strangers,
But that day, the day of harvest was crazy..
As she had just gotten a new harvest knife,
From this black smith,
Whose potent, sent her as a potential..
She swerved her behind like essential,
That we thought equitessential,
They married,
On Friday, and divorced on Sunday,
That was the way anyway…
It’s fun dating your ex,
When you meet in a morning exercise,
Or mourning at the funeral,
Like that funeral of Kamakune..
Where there were no makune…
Boombox and aerobics playing
crazy..
Her body-shape, an invite,
Your body show, definite..
There’s this feeling gotten,
That of regret,
You get?
Especially when both of you never got it,
Right or wrong!!!
Are you happy? Both will ask…
Not so sure both will be tasked…
Like dating your ex,
The first time you meet them explicitly…
At a wedding, birthday party or funeral..
Like Kafiti the Village Wag!
ON THE PULPIT