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A "no"  answer  kills
not;
rather I've gained new skills.
Life into variant classes is made
Demarcating first from economy,
Where many fills up the cabin
Tail, who don't have pretty penny.

Same flight, but distinct delights;
One world, yet peculiar living.
Each exists by their own ticket
With cloned greetings and grin.
Will an eligible bloke happier be if he
Marries a ranking *ele like Miss Universe
With all her glory and graces, and 'cause
Of marriage mirth? Will a sheila pretty
An unbroken regalement have for a dream
Prince Charming--the fairy man of her whim?

Will the soul be jolly for the sophomore
More than for the frosh rapture of success
Had in the Ivy League of cosmic business,
When the heart cut a caper and an encore
Of hilarity requests of narrowed life--
To have constant binge in lieu of strive?

What man is wholly from trouble free, whose
Being be to sadness inured? Within, the
Spokes do sometimes snap at the rotary
Wheels of serenity, and chaos is let loose.
What thus can stay the pillars of pleasure in
A plagued world is above this little noggin.
*ele, in my native language Yoruba--which is spoken in the western part of Nigeria, Benin Republic and some other parts of West Africa and reaching to the Caribbean countries-- means a lovely girl.

Except if the meaning and translation had been lost in transist in other places but surely not in western Nigeria.
Love has killed
m'heart,
which should have made
it
live.
Doth lead to dark doom,
when it is given room.

— The End —