It Is just a figure they call in numbers
Had I have known had I have recalled,
My formation, my cries
All what it was growing as kid.
Didn’t know how I felt, ought to have remained
But I kept replenishing; development we think,
Happy I grew pubic hair, fine enough for the growing man.
Why the rush? When there is a time for every thing.
Perfect since I did my childhood impossible.
Years run by, years gone with different memorable events
Should have reached the space boundary
My brain has a limit.
As I grew older I picked the present memories.
Leaving the past for several glancing without a going back
Both good and bad, OLD AGE IS JUST DEATH
WHEN ONE PRECEDES IT,
LIFE IS NO LONGER ASSURED.
by Onyeche Vincent Onyeka
(c) 2009 http://Onyecheonyeka.wordpress.com
Vinzpoetry 
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