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The Balm called Socials [by Ore Badmus]

It eases

It soothes.

It smoothens

The brood.

 

It makes the wounded whole,

Brings together the fold,

Even with crutches,

They won’t take a no.

 

It calms

The storm

From which

Displeasure was born.

 

It glosses over any vexation,

Makes room for disambiguation

And by their own volition,

Plan another celebration.

 

Over a drink or two

Beer or cocktail as they choose,

They trash talk,

They bear hug

And to the furthest part of their minds,

They push the game blues.

 

But then,

Season 2 beckons…

1 Comment

1 Comment

  1. Taiwo

    July 5, 2018 at 9:24 pm

    This is great. Thumbs up.

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