All high schools have wall poets, some are obnoxious bathroom vandals, while others are genuine scribes. I remember one of those instances very vividly, walking down a set of stairs and finding a short poem on a wall written in Yoruba.
The poem was about a boy a his unconditional love for a girl. A girl he compared to the most beautiful things his young mind could conceive, the moon and butterflies. He concluded the poem comparing her to a flower in the thickest of the forest. I might not be most sensitive guy, but that one line stuck with me ever since, now I can’t stop drawing girls in the forests.
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