The Secret Life of Kind Fathers | by Monsuru Omosanya
I used to think / he did not feel pain. / But when you sit long enough / with an ache, it becomes a way of life.
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Haiku for Loneliness / After Misery, There Are Memories | 2 poems by Monsuru Omosanya
Then a memory becomes
a small sun
you can hold in your palm.
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