I Got Lost Once
Dafe Orugbo, 6th year
It was vastly cold, I was freezing actually.
The low mumble of “Fun Facts”,
Echoed harshly in the pit of stone.
Packed tightly together like ice particles,
With a flakey withered look into the “Soul”.
This brooding over zealous fantasy,
Within its glass prison, this ticket to him,
Is where a thought might grow.
And it did…
‘Titanic’ sprouted fading black roots forever sinking.
Cracking through the marble floor,
Plunging me into the sea.
See, those facts then became tragic,
The soul, a fleeting leaf,
A forgotten idea in the idle breeze.
Memories ricocheted in that small clear case.
And we left…
It was slightly cold, but I was free.