Dear Future Self,

I write to you today,
From the depths of yesterday,
With scars that still remain,
And lessons learned in love's sweet pain.

When heartbreak comes, as it will,
Don't dwell on tears or lingering still,
For time heals wounds, but memories stay,
And in their place, wisdom comes to stay.

You'll lose loved ones along the way,
But don't let grief define each new day,
Their memories shape you, yet don't confine,
Your growth, your dreams, your soul's divine.

Remember these words, and hold them tight:
"You can't afford to dwell on emotions like women do,
So be an independent soul and get on with your life."

Take these words to heart, and move forward strong,
Don't let past hurts hold you back too long,
For every loss, a gain will come,
And in each end, a new beginning's drum.

Love freely, without condition,
Yet guard your heart with wise decision,
Learn from the past, but don't reside,
In memories that no longer provide.

Remember this, my dear future friend: Life is a journey, not a race. Hold close the ones who lift you high, And let go of what doesn't embrace.

Be brave, dear self, and spread your wings,
Embrace life's beauty, with joy that clings,
You are strong, resilient, and wise,
A phoenix rising, with heart full of sighs.

With love and hope,
Your Past Self.

I want to write a poem
That says how we feel
A poem in which our minds
Connect as one
A romantic poem so sweet
It attracts honeybees
A motivational poem
That inspires you to motivate others

I want to write a poem
That goes down in history
That leaves my name and words
In the minds and hearts
Of thousands to come

I don't want to be another Einstein
Who solved problems and equations
Always finding X

I want to be more than Malcolm X
Perform more wonders than Prof. X
Another John Doe
Whose words echoes in your mind
Pushing and motivating you
To solve those problems
Inspiring you to be the answer
At the end of the equation

I want to leave a mark in history
My footprints in the sand
For generations to follow
I want to write that kind of poem
That speaks to the souls
And hearts of many.

I am an open space
Whose boundaries have been torn down
By wicked humanity
Whose waterfall of mercies
Have been stretched beyond its limits
Opinions cursed at and devalued
A space so forgiving
But yet trampled on
With ***** hooves and shoes
Although they were told to walk in barefooted
They leave the wide open gates
Decide to make their own way
By breaking down my walls
Destroying my perfectly laid glass bricks
They hate the inner joy I offer
So they burn down my purple roses
Leaving blood in their wake
They play dragged on games with my patience
My tolerance hanging by a thread
Yet I maintain, keeping my cool
Growing new roses but this black, evolved
Expanding the gates to cover the broken parts of the wall
Making a pathway for those who refuse
To take off their shoes
That much I can do
The waterfall I can not refill
The thread I can not thicken
So they better beware
For I possess poison in my roots
Termites in my branches.

Clothes draping
Dresses overflowing the bed
Scarves quacking
Shoes clacking
The mirror worn out
All to celebrate
Two thousand years back
When God didn't send the eternals
To save the world
But His only begotten son
A God as powerful
Brought down to a defenceless man
Casted out for not having a dollar
To His name
Stripped of His clothes
Only to be dressed back
With lashes
Lashes so great
One would shudder at the sound alone
Cursed at
Spat on
Yet unlike Robin
He showed no anger nor bitterness
Superman needed a ritual
But on this very day
He rose without one
A man who not only thread
But crossed the boundary between life and death
And returned
He performs wonders that
Even doctor strange will marvel at
His power so great
That scarlet Witch will be His underling
He who has more strategies
For our future
Then Batman can ever conjure up
So when we sit on the Pew
Singing joyous praises
Listening to the man cladded in white
We know that Easter isn't celebrating
Just any man
But God so tremendous
That cyborg can never rebuild himself
To meet His level.

"I see your monsters
I see your pain
tell me your problems
I'll chase them away"

No one can see my monsters
At times even I can't
There's this monster
that's either always with me
or leaking in the shadows
waiting for the right time to come out
and wrap its arms around me
It's name is loneliness

No one can see my pain
At times even I feel numb
There's this pain
that comes like a sudden lightening bolt
hitting the bull's eye on my chest
making my heart quaver in pain
setting alarms in my brain
then spreading to every other part of my body
It's called heartbreak
No one can take that away
It's my burden to carry.

I have been standing at attention
for so long that it hurts
It hurts so much that I can't feel nothing
My mother said to me that the key to stand longer
was to make it numb
Once numb you can't feel a thing

My mother has been standing for 23 years
so why can't I?
I'm trying to break a record
A record that breaks me
tears me to my flesh and bones

My sister stood at attention for 8 years
...then she broke
Broke faster than glass to the floor
Broke so fast that no one saw it coming
She stood at ease
Opening the gate and letting the flood out
She was as powerful as the mighty flood
that sweeps across the earth's surface
They couldn't hold her down no longer
Till date, she never stood at attention again

Yet here I am
with all my weight placed on the ***** of my feet
Blisters eating at the corners of my life
My heart know no peace
for I am at alert at all times
I have stood so long
that the pests now feed on me
A willing feast

One day, maybe just one day
I'll stand at ease
The lion will awaken
but for now, the numbness is my best companion
The harshness of the society, my commander
So here's a record for you
I have stood at attention for 16 years.

To the elderly man whom I greeted
That inquired if I was fine
No, I don't think I'm fine
Because if I was
I wouldn't be doing crazy ****
Like beating up someone twice my size
Or jumping off the balcony to see
If I would land on my feet
If I was
I wouldn't be a violent mad raging *****
Who goes around beating them *******

Being fine isn't just about the body
But also the mind
And my mind is a battlefield of stupidity
Where all forms of crazy *******
Fight to the death to crazy *******
Fight to the death to gain superiority
My mind is a prison cell
Caging my conscious within
Bounding it by chains and gags
My mind is a catastrophe circus of
Madness and furious imagination
Imaginations fit not for me
Imaginations that could **** at any given time
Like a ticking time bomb
Imaginations that could tear and terror
Those who got a peak

So, to the elderly man whom I greeted
No, I most definitely am not fine.

I've a secret to tell
Hold it dear to your heart
Tell it not in Port Harcourt
Nor breathe a word of it in Abuja
Whisper it not in Kaduna
Rumour it not in Enugu
Let it not be heard in Kano
Nor murmured in Warri
Neither say it in Jos
Nor howl it in Lagos

For there're ears in the walls of Ebonyi
Chameleons in Kogi
Spies in Bayelsa
Green snakes in the green grass of Abia
For there're preying eyes everywhere
...

To be Nigerian means
to know how to work hard
to know how to strive to survive
because on these 9ja streets
there is no manna as fell from heaven
You've to scratch and claw and squeeze
for that daily bread promised in days of yore

Inside the depths called Nigeria
is a myriad of talents unrecognised
For there are no talent scouts patrolling our streets
to pick and groom and nurture our gifts
It's left to you to hone your skills
and fight your way to greatness and light

On the battlefield of 9ja
are millions of skills recently tossed aside
like flak jackets expired and useless
For protection they neither offer
nor put food on the tables of men

In the thousands of cemeteries that litter Nigeria
are thousands of youth buried with their dreams
Dreams of greatness from patriotic service
snuffed out by a greenhouse of selfish greed
deprived of nurture by a barren soil
Their noble aspirations expiring in their graves
Our poor Nigeria denied the garlands that
the dreams so noble would have brought her way

But from the heaps of ash dotting Nigeria
From the swamps of poverty criss-crossing the land
Have risen stars twinkling in the sky
They signal to the world that Nigeria is still alive
not altogether an economic cesspool
but a land of people toughened by strife

When they finally stand on that stage called 9ja
brandishing the awards they've always dreamt of
they can do nothing but break down in tears
Years that tell the world
of all the sleepless nights they had
All the candles they burnt
All the days they spent in the sun
just to prove themselves to the world and say
that there's pride in being Nigeria

Your time is coming... it's almost here
when every year you have shed
and every prayer you have said
will prove to be worth it.
Just don't give up.