The Authorpreneur

My lips may be shy And my tongue holy But my fingers are no saints Like my hands, they love their sin And together they outnumber 10, My fingers are eleven Bringing all past the gates of heaven And seeking for what is sweeter when closed but isn't theirs Las las they are not afraid of finding temptation In the end, with poetry they lead temptation, making a saint out of even the devil. Kingdavid Chinaeke Ofunne

I walk farther Than my legs can travel Go further Than my vision unravels Fight longer Than my mates do battle So I may finally arrive at the first you, not this second I can't handle.

Sometimes pain doesn't go until you have learned.

I never believed in miracles. Then I met you.

Most first dates are like a fresh warm bottle of pure spring water But you were no pure water, you were a bottle of exotic red wine.