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MY ANDRE

If I were to be hyperbolic
I’d say he came from mars
Or that those eyes outsmarted the very stars
But that in itself would be ironic

My Andre’
He is nothing but a normal guy
By ‘normal’, I mean nothing exceptional
No dreamy stars, just nothing unusual
Though chiselled, he had a regular smile

He is no prince charming
Yet he found my glass slipper
With a regular song, I was left in his arms to pamper
Unlike most girls, his uncharming state wasn’t alarming

He is my Achilles heel
Though he is no fairytale
He sings just as the nightingale
His love is to heal

He has no mansion to his name
Neither did he come to me with a rose
Nor like a hero on a horse
But in his heart, he has reserved a space
My dear, dear Andre

Written by: Esther Pearllie Orji
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson

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