Sophisticated look,
Hand once made of a gold watch,
Quirky smirk,
Ego that knew master hood,
Soft palms,
Knew just a touch of a cigar,
And a warm body, that;
****** the death of a lifeless man,
A man's lap is the dungeon where angels are held. That man.

See, Larry I got you a bear,
I don't want to see you cry, no!
Punch it Larry,
Again Larry, again,
Now even harder,
Let it burn with your anger,
Let it pay for the bus you missed,
She will learn to lose her fluff,
She will learn to lose her beauty,
She will learn to stay in the cold,
Only thing she won't,
Leaving your bedside.

Yours sincerely,
Wife.

Valley, if it was a valley,
Then she must have lost herself in there,
But didn't y'all ask her to hang on a little?
Yet you didn't send a dove to check,
Or maybe Noah's vulture,
I checked and I'm sorry it was a deep sea,
I'm sure the tears conspired against her,
They gathered and swept her down deep,
But don't dead bodies float?
Might be she still breathes beneath,
But still,
Y'all won't save her?

While you're young and getting stuff done, just hope you find that one genuine and informed person to guide you from your stupidity.
There are mistakes everywhere, if you did them, we live and we learn.

While you're young, have an investment culture, not just savings; it pinches hard to be a helpless provider.

While you're young, communicate and keep doing it, it keeps getting better.

While you're young and knowing where you belong, stay where you're visible and you will value every piece of fun you have.

While you're young, learn to forgive, you haven't met the real sins yet.

I found a place,
One to call home for my homelessness,
One with loud rhythms of Bad liar,
One too big to escape from,
So look me in the eye,
Tell me what you see,
Perfect Paradise,
Guess I wished my heart reflected it.

Time is a thief,
A thief of plans in our task notes,
A thief of dreams from our bucket list,
But time steals people too.
How is it we pass strangers through the streets each day,
Strangers who make it to the end of the day,
And those we were the last to see with hands in their pockets,
Strangers we don't get to see in their tinted cars,
And all those friends who turn into strangers,
Maybe we just should not take a thing for granted,
Guess of all we knew, one, if we'd be seeing them for their last,
We'd be a little kinder and sweeter than the freeloaders we've become.

In a world of passports that take ages,
In a society of techtouch and airtalk,
In a land of miles,
I choose to travel,
Miles after miles,
In the ink of my pages.

From the sycamore to the most horrific bridges,
From a rotten society to civilization,
From dreams to reaps,
I choose to travel,
Path after path,
In the ink of my pages.

When I cannot turn,
When I can run nowhere,
When I want to hide,
I choose to travel,
Thick after thick,
In the realm of my pages.

Young or old, male or female,
Dear, make yourself easy but tough,
Be a bridge to people's destinations but only if it doesn't cut out a part of you, it's called helping. Helping doesn't care whether your 'walk on' is to stay or pay. Doesn't cut out opportunists from real. Easy, if you can hold. Better if you can sustain in it, but help out regardless.

And one day, when you've tried enough,
When you have said sorry again and again,
fly off like a bird and hide in the thicks,
And only let out your song to the world.

When a poet gets tired, she never lets go,
When a poet feels stabbed, she never stabs herself,
When a poet is worked up, she never says a word,
Because,
When the heart of a poet gets too hot, that she can't stay,
She goes out to find a shoulder to lean on, but when she doesn't find one,
She let's the tears flow out drawing patterns on paper that only she can comprehend,
She knows how to conceal the spears that clutch in her soul,
And only those who read between her lines get to spot the pepper in the plate.

o'er the shore, a man,
clinging onto his crutch, like,
it bears his golds, he's
younger than yesterday, he,
never knows how, man, woman,
and the kids,  know his teeth set,
he sometimes is tacky,
that's for a human, he loves,
he loves me, my mum and papa,
his blare when we come swimming,
is suffice a tell, though he's never,
like, totally told us his roots,
he is secret, secret like the fairy land,
LA La land that envelopes in him,
and the flowery scenery he doesn't see,
but lives a delusion,
secret like the angelets that encompass,
those that failed, to cross him over,
like he's been craving but no longer,
he's the butterfly flying in the desert,
that could spot a rose in the thorns,
he's never seen us, mama, papa and I,
we've lived an illusion.

Do we have a home?
To us who don't have a place in people's hearts,
To us who haven't made peace with our pieces,
To us who our scars seem so deep to want to heal,
To us who have searched and never found,
To us who haven't had the word to share with the world,
Do we still have a place to call ours?

If you have met people who loved you,
And they forgave you for who you are,
Glue to them but quit to blame us for who we are,
We have tried, but it didn't work out for us,
We cried but it didn't seem to dry up,
We spoke, but it didn't all come out,
We heard but listened to our hearts each time.

Time and again, we have failed us
We have hurt us all the time,
But isn't that what became of us?
We tried, well, we are off,
Off to meet our destiny, one we don't know
And here and now, I say, if we never return,
We found a place for us and don't come looking for us.

Valley, if it was a valley,
Then she must have lost herself in there,
But didn't y'all ask her to hang on a little?
Yet you didn't send a dove to check,
Or maybe Noah's vulture,
I checked and I'm sorry it was a deep sea,
I'm sure the tears conspired against her,
They gathered and swept her down deep,
But don't dead bodies float?
Might be she still breathes beneath,
But still,
Y'all won't save her.

Dear heart,
I was to protect you,
I taught you to train yourself,
To learn to let go,
But you didn't want to learn,
And now you're bleeding,
Bleeding, like you won't stay for too long,
I'm sorry, you were not saved successfully.

I won't forget about last time,
I tried to tell my pain,
I know I have lots in my mind,
And I might carry it all with me,
But here and now, I promise,
I'd rather die drowning,
Than scream for a saviour.

Suppose,
You woke up one morning,
And I popped up on your screens,
I wonder what will flash in ur mind,
And I wonder if you'll be on breakfast or supper,
I wonder if you'll have a pic of me to show,
And I wouldn't want to know when and if you'll splash it on your pages,
But whatever,
Don't curse yourself,
Don't remember how I cried,
And don't bother to buy a bouquet for my grave,
I'm sure they'll burry me, a day after,
And you won't have time to peep through my coffin glass,
You won't know how I slept,
Whether cursing or appreciating,
You won't also know the last dues I made to Allah,
But whatever,
I pray it doesn't haunt you at night.

Dear lover,
I know this is trash,
Just like the notes I've written and you tore,
Just like the letters I send and you trample,
Like the texts I leave and you chuckle,
Baby I know, I wasn't the best lover,
I thought grass was greener,
But did I leave?No, not a step away,
And when you were miles away,
I always chose to hang on a little longer,
Unawares I was signaled to go,
But painfully longing to abide,
And when I tried to shun the turn,
You said I was strong and I could take it.

Baby you don't know how much I curse,
Baby you don't know how much I soak in the dark,
Baby you don't know how broken my pieces are,
Baby you don't know what I've had to go through,
Baby, how you'd hurt me but I'd forgive you every second,
But Baby, you wouldn't want to forgive me too,
And baby I know, you wouldn't want to listen, if I called to say.

Baby I know I'm not Mona Lisa with the prettiest smile,
Baby I know, I'm not the Pope with the cleanest hands,
Baby I know, I don't have the Nightcore eyes and voice,
Baby I know, you'd cast me aside and choose me last,
But baby, can I be your baby if I grow a little more prettier?
But baby could you forgive me, if I had more chubbier cheeks?
And Baby, how if I had a Cinderella body?
But baby, now I know, you'll trash me like forever,
Baby I know, you might tear this like my heart,
Baby I know, the blood and tears sticked together in this page...
Baby I heard, they're conspiring to carry me far and so away,
Baby I know, you'll find this after I'm gone and all lost,
But Baby I know, you might find some letters faded like I,
And baby you might wanna trash it again.

Hello,
It's Friday,
I walk into my room,
I'm on my snack,
And snuggled,
I wonder why she lacks the hype,
The weekend hype in town,
She breaks down,
And I push my snack away,
I wonder why she hates the weekend,
Why she clings to her bear,
And how her pillow knows her harrows,
She holds her mouth,
With her hands agitated,
She doesn't like it, when,
The neighbor next-door,
Walks in to inquire about the gnashing,
I watch her in the mirror,
Horror! And sure I want her out,
I beckon the custodian,
And she says,
It's a single person that uses the gangway,
I'm stunned,
I'm the corpse in my room.

I know we are all stuck up,
In demons we don't understand,
In feelings we didn't create,
In dominions we didn't invite,
In crews, where we are rugs,
In friendships suffice for harm,
In families we didn't choose,
In rivers sweeping us away, and;
In places that are unmentioned,
But,
Someday,
Someday, we will make it,
We will make it out of here.

You remember how we could talk all day,
How we could walk through woods
And splash waters like we were not afraid to drown,
That day when we made ill confessions,
And demons took over,
Demons we could barely comprehend,
We failed to stick to the rules of the game,
There was much more to the stare,
And mixed up looks?well maybe,
That's why we quit throwing pillows,
And now we're slamming doors,
Barking like dogs,
And, wondering if that was fate,
Or our own making,
I wish we didn't have to feel,
We could be holding hands to date.

You had the fields and the parks
The roads and the paths,
The pools and the waters,
You chose the heart,
But why when its irreplaceable,
Why when it lacks a cure,
If you must play,
Play with the toys,
There are a number on the shelves,
FYI they barely bleed,
so if you must play,
Not with emotions,
They might ****.

If you ever think of pulling out of the match,
Don't tell the coach,
Don't throw away your suits,
Carry your body out,
And don't wave at your messmates,
Go to your house,
In the dark of your room,
Soak your muckender,
Pull up your sleeves,
And sop up to the field.

I promise,
It was better while we waited,
When we were unaware of the end,
At least, for then,
We would smile and grieve,
Look at us now,
Corpses trying to breath,
Clutching on our breaking bones,
In this bleak space,
Where its standard to chuckle at pain,
You can feel the ossified agitation,
The unheard mutters of dark horses,
Who've for ages faced the harrow,
Rode on Excruciation,
And charming on blown over times,
While praying for better days.

If I ever talk of my tussle,
Please don't untangle your sleeves,
I might lose myself in the trap within,
I might wanna trust a human,
And I won't want that.

I might wanna warm in your arms,
Like I did, unaware, there were arms,
I might wanna lean on your shoulder,
Like I did and it was colder,
Don't have me counting on ur edges.

I don't wanna blink one more time,
I don't wanna break my heart in two,
I don't wanna cast in doubt,
I don't wanna curse and curse,
You're human;I know how it goes.

I'm building up a wall,
And I'll paint it in smiles,
I want it colourful for the leps,
Glimmering for the kings,
And strong for the thugs,
So that my lie mustn't collapse.

Ridiculous, how she sits at the corner,
You wouldn't notice her,She's dark as the nights;
She has been holding on to her glass,
Probably it's the champagne, she's afraid, will run out,
And like it always happens, no one will buy her some drink,
But only those who desire to tear her down.

I turn on the radio,
And its her voice in my mind,
She talks of the number of times,she's been broken down,
Torn apart and stumped on,
She wonders why, she has always been chosen last,
And why the precision of frustration.

Her heart, a quiver,
I guess she's glued to her glass,
To conceal the lances in her heart,
I turn the volume on,
And this time round,
She hates herself,
But afraid not to live.

She masks up every time, I hit her up,
I can tell from the hypocritical glare,
The world has taught her to eat up her grief,
And break glasses in her room,
I wonder what she does in the dark corner of the pub,
I guess it's worse, when she gets to the yard On a Monday.

I am writing this,
To that one kid,
Who sits behind the class,
Tears the pages of his books,
And begins to make patterns,
He himself cannot comprehend,
I was told of the number of times,
You cried yourself to sleep,
I know what you crave for,
But I dreamt,
You should wake up,Build up
And get out of your head,
That is not your place,
I wonder for how long,
You will soak in your pages,
How many poems will you have to write?
How many notes will you have to write and tear?
How many arts will you have to draw?
I thought,
Perhaps, you could breath and write on my palm,
Let me be your book, to vent your anger on,
I've had my heart killed, and I know how it feels,
I can't count the therapies, I had to undergo,
And I remember, they thought I was a ******,
I kept questing my sanity,
But I was sure I was OK,
And so when you click OK to my page,
I promise, it's OK not to be OK.

In case I died on the roads,
I pray it rains and washes my blood,
To erase the awful memories,
And seal the pain I went through.

In case I die on my bed,
I pray you find me smiling,
Like I still lived,
So to seal the pain I went through.

In case I die in the parks,
I pray the vultures eat the flesh,
So, I no longer exist,
And to seal the pain I went through.

In case I die in the waters,
I pray the blue covers the red,
And the waters carry me to a beautiful island,
So to seal the pain I went through.

In case I die in the battlefield,
Tell the world I did my best,
Put all badges on my chest,
So to seal the pain I went through.

What's up with the fade?
Is there something wrong?
I wonder if you read my note,
I slipped it into the woods.

You painted to me,
And your art was full of red,
You counted the frustrations,
And afflicted your mind.

I wish I would hug you tighter,
To feel the beats of your heart,
I would know how much life was left,
Now, the silence scares me away.

I wrote to you a letter,
And dropped it in the woods,
I guess the ants ate it away
I shouted your name,
You didn't look back,
I guess, the wind carried it off.

You remember how I pulled you back,
To warn you about the field,
And the thorns amidst the grass?
But you said,You were born to die,
And today, I write love in your casket,
For indeed! You died for love.

To the musicians on stage,
I have your voices in my room,
It's my rhythm in the pain,
And I wonder why you tell my story,
I cry in your beats,
And laugh in your notes,
Funny, how you record,
For your next hymn.

To the musicians on stage,
Never mind who listens,
And how it tastes,coz;
Everyone has their taste,
Don't bother the spotlight,
You make our hearts light,
We didn't tell you we care,
But, we built you a palace in our minds,
And we solo your words in the dark.

When you're cut, you're cut
Just like like the burns on a bun,
How its subjected to heat
And darkens
So when you're *******, you're *******,
How the sword tore your skin,
Penetrated your cloak,
And cracked your bones,
When you don't bleed,
And your eyes don't tear,
So, your heart is heavy with blood,
You are all red,
So you lack a choice but wish you were just green.

Hi my soul breaker,
You built in my mind,and;
I wish I suffered amnesia,
To forget you ever existed,
Or perhaps get into a comma,
Just to put a coma to my pain,
You remember how I loved you,
And how hilariously...
You literally pushed me away...
And just when I needed you most?
When I was battling with demons, tougher than my devil,
And you were the only blessing I was counting,
It was funny hahaa.

Sometimes I wish I was an army soldier,
Such that I'm not humane enough to battle with emotions
And so that, I would plan my death in war
Love pierced my peers to the grave,
So, I wrote a letter to my pastor,
And he said, suicide offence is a sin,
And hate is ******,
I think I'm dead,
You hate me, so you've killed me,
And if I'm not dead, then I'm half-alive
So to the man I loved, when you meet me next, stab my other half,
And free me up from your trap.

I peep through smoothly,
To evade the stench,
And lose track of the man next,
Who keeps wording in his snores,
Pin-drop silence, you get it?
I'm struggling for light,
Fresh air and breeze,
My mind goes dark one more time,
I reach for a glass of water,
Well, its champagne,
I wonder,
What it has to do with my mental state?
Illusions,
I see the men in blue pointing knives,
And I keep still.

I miss the streets,
Tough but kind,
We fight and eat together,
I'm tormented,
It gives me suicidal thoughts,
I wave across the corridor,
If someone will hold my hand,
'Hey, keep your place, you nincompoop'
Then I realize,
I stole for insanity,
And I'll get killed for that,
In the conspire of the sane.

She walks past me,
Stares back in disgust,
Pulls something out of her pocket,
And bends right in front,
She appears to pick something,
Heaven knows what,
So, I push myself left,
And like nothing happened,
I make strides ahead.

Its the path to the river,
And I need more water,
I walk back, for more,
This time, I meet sandals,
I recall cleaning them for Sandy,
But we no longer talk,
So I move right,
And like nothing happened,
I make strides ahead.

I balance my *** back home,
Trees swaying slowly,
Silence as usual,
Only the cracking of my bones,
It's a part shared by two homesteads,
Not unusual, a bird chirps,
And like nothing happened,
I make strides ahead.

The bird chirps more,
I bend to pick a stone,
But something's unusual,
A plain white sheet of paper,
With two stones above it,
So I pick a single stone,
And look above me,
The bird's beautiful,
Am carried away
Then suddenly, Sandy taps on my shoulder,
She holds the second stone,
And like nothing was happening,
WE make strides ahead.

If you're reading this,
Don't think I committed suicide,
Don't call cops to my grave,
And don't read my eulogy,
Its not a tale I would tell,
Its not a story to narrate,
Its from the fairy of the nights,
So to the murderer in white,
Who threatened me with a knife,
Carry a gun with you, next time,
Sharpen your knife thrice,
And keep your axe too.

My complexion takes, black, red, purple and white,
So to my murderer in white,
When you see me in red,
Spare my valentine,
When you see me in black,
Let me mourn my death,
When you see me in purple,
Pay me my respect,
When you meet me in white,
Drop your arms,
And if you ever happen to meet me naked,
That's the real me, unmasked,
And weighed down with anxiety,
Who's escaped the knife twice,
But wished for it thrice.

It's up until you build your nation, that you'll understand the ***** in a throne.

Until you press on the edge of a sword, you'll never understand the trauma of a crippled.

No one dislikes grand entries
Recognition, calms contentment,
It's a fact,we appreciate,
But have you thought of their world,
With words spearing the heart,
Yet too sharp, to get through,
When I talk of secret hearts,
I mean the painful baggage,
The lagguage in an introvert's heart,
So when they hold the curtains behind,
Give them the backstage role
Maybe they'll lean on the backs,
And make their grief known,
They are children of our mothers
And their world, is the silenced pain,
By the virtue, of abandoned upbringing.

If words were not heavy,
If hearts were light enough,
We'd speak a common language,
We'd talk about the same heaven,
And dress in purple.

'They add to those that have,
And take from those that lack,
And brand it justice' she said,
I'd not want her in my art,
But she designed its world.

Roads aren't smooth,
But if I'm poshy,
I'd make it to the end
Check out the cars in seizure...
That's the agency in service.

Carry DNA tools to companies,
I'm sure all companies will be family companies,
Then, you inquire about kindness,
Well, its etched within us, they say,
And we'd rather have our own.

I wish we talked the same language,
We'd have a common definition of kindness,
And figures of love,
The we'd spark our world,
And grace its street.

White scarfs, bald heads, short hair, lengthy strands
That's what colours our days,
Though, not until you realize the shadows within,
And the darkness beneath, where;
The spears clutch,
And the blood spurs,
Yet the ocean's still blue.

It is in the ocean, where;
Patterns are drawn,
And together make the beam,
There beneath, are letters,
Some in blue and others in red,
Then you must realize,
How deceptive the ocean's blue is.

It is the sea camouflaging the blue ink,
And coating the beetroots,
What if we were alike?
How about religion was love?
Then, the ocean would be white,
To somehow reveal the darkness,
The dark concealed underneath worship roofs.

I remember, the voice,
Well no, it was scream, yet too soft,
Soft enough, like the pat on my shoulder
Perhaps, its warm arms, she desired
It wasn’t as cold, to cuddle the fire
But it’s the heat, that warms a cold heart
My inner me, did not want love,
Maybe just that peace of the heart,
It was not suicidal, I preferred it pain elsewhere,
Not in my heart, no!

I was at the edge of a cliff,
My self against the whirlwind
I was sure, it was time to end it,
The pat again, and this time round,
She said, ‘hold on a little longer’
But why? it was pathetic enough!
My horoscope was so dark,
Then what’s the reason to breath,
Well, I was just surviving, and not living?
This time round, she tapped me hastily,
‘Hey! We are not mad; we are just stigmatized!’