Talking to myself through poetry
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Skimming through the surface of Nigeria
Not sporty nor to evade tax but to clean
An old mess, of mindset and corruption
My quest for revival ought to be in a jiffy
But it has turned into an eccentric donkey
And it seems; the sorbent has turned the spill
Do not ask why, do not question my stops
And why skimming has become a snail pace..
But put it on all individuals of my generation.
I followed flying butterflies as I craved But they landed me deep into a grave I bled right on the floor not just the pain…
Used to think a lot More of lust, no fault A big bum, big breast Pretty face, white teeth… Yet, one met no one Wired…
A special thank you to all philanthropists From east to west and north to south; Up the sky; freely the littlest of birds fly In…
The alleviated pains from cradle to this very day Has been a bundle of joy, a perfect gift I must say How fast the hand…
