Walking the forest path,
My feet beat the dusts and dropped leafs
to forge ahead,
I saw Methuselah
struggling with the earth
that held pile of wood to the ground,
I said to myself;
Life is a struggle.
On the paths of a beautiful city
Scents of virgins filled the air-
Virgins of sodom and gommorra.
Birds without quills
relishing the tunes of hip-hop
than the aged bones would have.
‘Life is beautiful’, so I said.
With my crony in the heart of Lagos,
Our legs took us to the night’s paradise
to drown our sorrows in aqua vitae
and eyes feast on raw cleavages.
I think life is grog.
I was cascading sorrows on my path home
My head just smirched my soul
My eyes caught some beautiful lede
Ranting praises to a God
Life is prayer, so I said
I journeyed my way through to the mall
To get something to mouth my bowels
I espied Gollaith
Draining David’s life
So i said
Life is wicked
I sought a monk out
Through a nearby forest
To know what the future holds
He chanted and told me takes of fortunes
Life is good
So I said
I met a man
Worse than a gargoyle
Chasing kids with he’s look
Further away from their heaven
I said to myself
Life is ugly
So, I said
Life is dynamic
© Abdul Ganiu Ajibola Bello (Crying Pen)
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