At Your Risk Write Me Off

Write me off at your own risk
At the wrist of your arm is
A riffle tied as hate in the heart
It is the reason you hurt
When you see my twist
Of the eye at her

But she loves it
Because she doesn't frown at my gist
Hate talk you say!
Try your luck my brother
I will not bother
Whether you flourish at the try
Mine is to fly up in the sky
Up the tree I will sit
And wait for the branch to break

Her own bosom knows where it lies
It knows where it's comfort
I'm glad it hurts
You when you sight me
With her at the road
Yes she holds my hands

But where were you?
Where were you when she was hurting?
At the time when she was depressed
And that day when she needed you most
But she still needs you
She needs you to tell her your sorry
She needs you to listen to her
She needs to tell you what she feels
She needs you.
Hiire Ivan is a Ugandan Writer, Poet and Blogger.

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