Image by Gordon Johnson from Pixabay


When little sister comes running down to you,
Beaming with smiles on her pretty face,
She would ask those words you now despise,
“What is love”, and she would eagerly wait for your answer.

Tell her, it’s that thing , a feeling, that brings along,
Lots of sadness, after few minutes of what looks like joy.
Tell her to remember,
Her sisters once loved, and she should realize what they had become.

Run your fingers through her silky long hair,
And painfully cut a bit, letting her feel much hurt,
And let her know my dear, that loving leaves more hurt than she feels.
Tell her she deserves more, and loving would only shatter her,
For we get hurt the most,
By the ones we truly love and trust.

And as she looks into your eyes,
Let her see it’s devoid of emotions,
So she may realize,
The path she always dreamed of treading,
Is nothing but a fairytale,
Never seen even by those who tell it.

Aderolu Nuriyah is a sixteen year old poet that lives in Lagos. She loves writing, as she sees it as a way of telling the world things that can’t really be said. She finds peace in scribbling things down, and writes down ideas as soon as they pop up on her head.

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