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Eternity is that even the rich lacks
Let’s reach climax
Before the day darks.
Eighty years is just a stone throw
Let’s enjoy love tasty taste and row
Before or if it ever turns sour while we grow;
Energy we have shall then decline.
Let’s smell the fragrance of love
Before the tiny space dilutes and take it away.
Emphatically, everyone of us knows
Love one has is a love one shares
By then no more normal trophy cells
Even ‘bam-bam beat’ is calm and nice
Lovely in love enjoying sight and sound
Before the endless dark lightens up-
Eating us up now that we are young.
Listen! this heart can wake the dead
But once upon a time at-
Eighty we shall tell, stories beside atrophy cells
Love and time, organs age with us:
Beware the clock is a running tap and,
Eighty is just tomorrow to come.
Let’s make love a busy broom
Beautifully now no forever young.
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