Days transform into nights.
Nights turn into days.
Mornings fall into noons.
Noons turn into evenings
Life and death merged.
There is no life and death apart.
The shepherds will be asked
Regarding life and death
A sizable crowd is approaching.
To compete between light and dark.
And the winners will take applause.
The losers will regret it.

... are not only
place to walk,
to ride and to
drive, are also
places to take
a note when
crossing
...

Was on pedestrian
in a hospital
Walking on a stiletto
Feeling high, like on hills
Wearing trendy clean clothe
A white lab-coat
is a top
Sticking her left palm around
Her waist,
And hip is dancing
Name tag,
stylish on her labcoat
Pharm. Romantic Pharmacist
A name,
placed on the tag
Vanity she felt, and
glancing side-on
And, sweet scent diffusing
Into a pharmacy,
she placed her leg.
Someone,
a good looking Pharmacist
Welcomed her,
With a beautiful hug
And kissed her, beautifully
A romantic Pharmacist

She is a Physician
In her heart, the
blood is white
on her tongue, the
words are bright
on her face, the
smile is colorful,
A romantic physician

...
War is worst disastrous
Defenses are better to all
The lion is to be blamed
And the cat lost its sight
For, the hyenas insisted
That the lion is nothing...

Life is a gold for Eukraine
Not only Eukraine, for all..
Interest is a factor between
The flame and its fuel
So
Blame none but allies

I am having pain
I am having drain
Through my nose
Down to my oral,
I can taste the taste
Like a salty-sour...
In my tongue is a
Bitter, and the heart
is aching like a fever
and headache, when
I can't be able to fly
through the sky
lanes...

Life goes on;
sharpen a knife.
It is an add or subtract.
Life must grow,
both new and old.
like mine, life is added.
like mine, life is subtracted
As I was born like a fresh leaf.
I will age like a tree-bark.
But,
I am still pleased.
Even though my
age is lowering

Water boils at 99 +1°C
In the kitchen on cooker
But poetry tend to boil at
unknown °C in the poetry
kitchen unless the readers
specified the boil of the
poetry in its boiling ***
in Safana Poetry Kitchen
(SPK)

It's has a bitter taste,
Others said, a sweetest
than sweet honey,
Like they said.
it's kind a sugary but
nectary,
someone said.
I found in me,
Salty
When I am kicked
away

Sarama! Sarama Sarama
Her name was not Clara.
She appeared to be Flora.
When she was like Cholera.

Sarama, she is a dilemma.
She put love in near comma.
Because love suffers trauma.
And she dispose, love gramma.

Sarama! Sarama Sarama
Your eyes have glaucoma,
Your words are on diastema.
And your heart has a neuroma,

Murja murza murjani,
Kin iya murji.
Sarauniyar murji
kin iya murji'in taqaliji.
Murja murza mazaunai.
Murja a murzawa Gida-Gida mazaunai.
Murja a zauna a mazauna,
har sai Abida ta koshi da murji.

Raucous noise
Rising low, rising high.
In a funeral home.
Before it reaches the grave.
A peppery tear is running.
Burning on the cheek and chin.
The loss of martyrs,
is not a loss of life.
However,
buddy-buddy causes an eye to cry.
Oh! This life is not entirely scary.
The scenes in it are the scariest.

When green leaves have clorosis
The breath will be seized.

It's seven days left.
We will celebrate the birthday.
The birth of a blessed child
cheerfulness and well-being.
He is the son of his father and his mother.
a good boy, a very clever boy.
His behaviour is like that of a grownup.
He likes to play with kids.
He likes to play with adults.
and he is a friend to everyone.
Everyone loves Habeeb.
Everyone likes to see Habeeb.
May Allah take us to the birthday
We will pray for Habeeb.
We wish Habeeb the best.
We will give Habeeb a blessing.
And we will cut Habeeb's cake.

It's  a shame...
That's, immoral
social indiscipline
politically bad ethic
And ethinic differences
Between you and the rulers

A wise person abuse no one
But himself for misconduct

No one respects any Nigerian
for our misconduct and then
corruption, fraud and stealing

How many foreign people are
swallowed, by these Nigerian's
cyber criminals...

North and southern ethnicity
Hausa/Fulani, Ibgo and Yoruba
the major ethnic groups are...

Muslims and Christian
Traditional and pagans

All, are of the same phase
of any crime activities and the
Selected and elected rulers are
from the same species of nature

Like ENDSARS, no one knows the
reason...
But I, slowly understand why

Robbery in the nigeran ancient
days, militia in the nigeran iron
age, religious crisis in the nigeran
social age, Boko Haram in the mid
age and abductions in the presence
age...

Because, you can't harvest the grannies old farm, you ran away
to the white men mansion to steal
in lieu of work to do...

🇳🇬🇳🇬🇳🇬

A fine blue pen
on her hand...
Bright heart in
her chest and
creativity in her
brain

she is my  farm
my acardian breed
of green Whenever
I rubberneck at her
sightlessness she
emplace my feelings
deepen the elysian fields

She is my farm,
my fantasy and
blistering color
All the times she
migth be green
and white
presently, her
colorful eye
is correct