Most prostitutes are normal bodies,
Hard workers doing their oddities;
Which seem unpopular so visibly,
So they can continue to feed boldly.
Circumstances they try to overcome,
Upturned obstacles making them so,
Resembling every other fleshed bone
With less hypocrisy and shyly so sour.
They are not traders selling a bodily asset,
They rent out for material gain and power
Like the more popular, with more respect;
Unlike political integrity, with less shower.
There’s patience in every wait,
and really, nothing is ever late.
With time, effort and faith,
even a mountain is a gate.
Your pained toil is gone yonder,
it’s training carried you further.
Now that the biology is over,
Earn your pride as a mother.
That simple deed you daily handle
Reveal so much about how you work.
Just as everybody carries their bundle
Of life’s joy and sorrow that will mock.
That piece of action you handle
Reveal your final piece of work.
Just like every artists’ own bundle
Of clay would praise and also mock.
Age is not just a number
It is time and much more.
Age is a climbing descend,
And a diminishing ascend.
Age is a race with time!;
For and also against time.
One day young and on top.
next, old and about to drop.
Where a man goes
So points his toes.
And what he knows;
Not all what he does,
Would lessen his woes.
All around are foes,
with yet another ruse.
Up any tree he throws;
With a beat to choose,
Could be his mangoes.
Time is a beating heart
ticking away from its start
counting down, ebbing away
taking life away, for it can’t stay
My time is solely mine, mine alone
I walk it and work life on my own
My life is not mine; it, I just have
Long as I prowl safely and behave
I am not mad, just insanely crazed
Like all the many about, just dazed
I live somehow, alive like it matter
I’m only here, ignored like dirty water
I try wetin I fit
With all dem gist.
I join, cook, wait!
Water yet, no meat.
Mine has come to this one thing,
appreciated and loved for my sun
was, is and will be in everything.
As able then stays man’s proud son;
strength is always but much nothing,
it lost out as strategy ever again won.
In so many eggs
Form these pests,
With hairy legs
And little nests.
They come alive.
Into lives they saw
Like a heartless knife.
Hopes are meals
Infected in feeding.
Health it steals
With insidious seasoning.
Flee and leaves
Sorrow in clusters.
Full of might,
In various ways.
Ever theyre new
In buzzing forays.
Mail your worst,
Untrue are lies.
Come the most
Youre just flies.