I’ve thought myself a painter, 

painting all your beautiful features and essence on a canvas

I’ve also thought myself a photographer, 

capturing your happiest moments in a camera

Maybe a tour guide in my city,

taking you to the most beautiful places everyday

A singer maybe, 

singing on top of my lungs your favourite melody,

in a lovely tone 

Or a rapper 

gushing about your melanin 

in every lyric like Wale Folarin 

But I hadn’t the voice, nor these other talents

and I barely even know my city 

So, as a poet I’ll write my heart out to you,

the things that can’t be expressed alone with words,

The purest of my thoughts

…