Father!
I can’t believe we changed
When I, so little ran to you
Times we played and dined
Times we giggled over nothing.

Father!
I can’t believe we changed
What about the sweets and pies we ate happily
How I rubbed them all over you
And you just laughed.

Father!
I can’t believe we changed
Turning into enemies
Fighting like cats and dogs
We used to be like;
Shoes and laces
Shirts and Buttons

Memories please speak.

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Is good to be back here

Happy new year everyone 😁❤️

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A PRODIGY'S CRY

I seek to write to you again my Love
I seek to write to you again;
Words that blossom lilies
Breath that raise dry bones
Feet so graced; boldly tearing down divinations
Hands that always clap till darkness trembles
Eyes so clear that always see and honor you so holy.
I seek to write to you again my Love
Words so sincere calling deep unto deep.

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You never know but your love for one another gives me an unusual faith

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ODE TO THE WORLD

Ode to my teacher
Who says education is key
Yet wails of not being paid.

Ode to my friends
Who post sweet Lovings of me
Yet blasphemes me behind.

Ode to the Church
Who preach non other than Christ
Yet are diversified with no love and unity.

Ode to the white man
Who discriminate us blacks
Yet steals from Africa's brains.

Ode to our government
Who says youths are the future
Yet recruits old blind men as leaders.

Ode to sooth sayers
Who praises its divinity
Yet sees only doom.

Ode to us poets
Who creates beautiful words
Yet is an illusion.

Ode to myself
Who people praise and call beautiful
Yet has a rumbling soul.

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I know of two people i used to love their relationship but now I think they're not worth it

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Please don't let us end
Let's fight this
I promise doing my best to stay stronger
I need a refill of your LOVE
Would you please...

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Ever since we met
I have thought so hard and deeply
Of beautiful lines to compose for you
But is still amazes me why I can't seem to come out something
Even if It's just a line.

But nevertheless, I realized that i always wrote from a broken pen of guilt

I pray one day I come of something
As a running spring for you My Roi

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I think my muse is the breeze. It moves across the trees
Transgressing to my feel on the vehicle seat

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I think my muse is a word. It confidently hides in a book and forms sentences beautifully together.

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