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MORE THAN A CHILD

Age brings a baggage along
That drags those to it belong.
It tells people the time is come,
Urging them to over come.

They succumb and rave,
All tenderly posh behave.
Pairing and publicly couple,
Taking oaths they humble.

Soon the purpose show;
As time ages all will know,
Are couples chosen sure,
Or bred in man’s nature?

The momentarily comfort is
Unsecured, lost and so amiss.
There is more than a child
In these weddeds gone wild.

SMART FOOLS

Once we had said it
And they knew it;
Our wisdom is stupid.

Hence we all hold it,
Like innocence; melt it.
Our relationships are stupid.

BLOSSOM

The freshness of a blossom
Will wither, fall and dry.
All this earth so awesome,
Ends and will all die.

OUR HOMES

It was always dark in all it lack;
All living again, though to us all,
Today it still lingers far off back
In that long night we still do fall.

These cultures that speak the person
Say an Abiku again is every one of us.
For common reason proves a season,
That only event ended and started us.

When the cries over sharia had settled,
We ran and scattered the town’s streets.
Homeless, dead and alive all kettled;
Schemed and steamed out of fair streets.

After all, a rope always starts and ends,
Then it is just after all rope in between.
All of man is birth and the dead ends,
In between is life; man is in between.

After dusk, all return to their own home.
The swine’s streets of our homes will then
Not be as good again to even just roam,
For the transit pen is now a lion’s den.

THESE CLICHÉS

Do they reap what they sow?
I’ve wondered as long as I come.
Often enough it has been as before,
They bury the hive yet have the comb.

Spare the rod and lose the child,
Same as many who didn’t at all.
The least expected child went wild
While the worst possible stands tall.

Surely and steady wins the said race,
But the rash in haste, are long gone to lose.
The patient keeps the bone or the chase,
The flesh it devoured only with its nose.

One step at a time is the long walk,
It has shown so many their goal.
That more had lived this same talk,
They still are now staring at a wall.

Rome was not built in a single day;
But it was conceived in just one.
What just any man really is anyway
Was a mere thought that was none.

WORDS WITH DESTINY

“Where do we meet?”
“At time’s own feet.”

“Where then is time?”
“With every single chime.”

“When will all this be?”
“Someplace set by me.”

“Do I have any say?”
“Now, maybe you may.”

“Then who am I sir?”
“My lone spouse, you are.”

“And you, Mister Mystery?”
“Your one and only destiny.”

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