love, poetry


And he entered the giant ballroom.

“What an immaculate Black Suit!”, they all said.

And, he danced and smiled and laughed with them.

Eventually, the hall was empty and he stood watching the dying music.

“Where to now, Sir”, the chauffeur asked.
“Back to the funeral”, he replied sprucing up his Black Suit of mourning.

Follow me on Instagram – @kashivology

5 thoughts on “THE BLACK SUiT”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s