I find no peace ,
Every time I write my piece,
And you fail to read it's purpose.
I am not good I suppose*,
Because if I were,
You shouldn't always be there,
Avoiding my writings.
I know you will not read this,
But you will hear people talk of it.
My purpose ????
You need to know I'm concerned about your behavior .
Otherwise good day .

Dear mum,
I haven't forgot you,
I have been away,
Four years no see,
No talk,
I hope you haven't stopped calling me your son...
How I pray to succeed ,
so I come home with a bread,
How I pray God to protect me
So I come home save .
How I pray to God,
To keep you healthy,
So I meet you strong and bouncy.
Mum ,you son is trying everything possible .
He sleeps hoping,
He wakes up thinking of what next,
He has a lot to say
But in all,he just keeps guiet ...
My days are not well when things are not working out,
I fear coming home without something ,
Mum you know me,
I love you,
I remember what you told me,
"Have this twenty and buy a pen"
It touched me,
We were in abject poverty,
I remember how you suffered my dad's beating,
How he broke your hand,
How you stayed away in my brothers home,
How they kicked you and said you were a liability ,
May God answer my prayer ,
That I may come to console you,
That you may forgive the past
That you may see a new sun
That you may smile,
That mum you may find me not a traitor,
Like I may look today.
Mum,you already fought the hardest fight,
I know you have come along way,
It had been tough
It had been rough
I am about to tell you something ,
We shall go trough them successfully .
Mum,allow me one more chance  to try,
I won't come home dry,
I will bring something for you to fry.
God shall never leave us suffer forever,
There shall be changes ,
Positive ones in our home.
You won't cry more,
Enough .
I am you son
I know your pain
I will paint a different picture of you soon.
I PROMISE.

I don't fry
I cry
no matter how I try
I remain dry.
I call all and sundry
to come by me,
to help me
for in all I have done,
it has bore no fruits.
I'm on the dying end.
it's my short poem.

I had a dream,
It was very short.
My long died grandfather
Came in my dream ,
He told me
"Grandson,
You will excel".
I am happy for that dream..

In sort of a tale,
Is a story told,
Not to have passed,
But yet to pass.

I see people running up and down,
Celebrating or sort of,
I see only one crying bitterly,
And that is my mother,
She say,
"My son is lost!"
My sisters are in sort of amusement,
Confused of what to do,
My brothers see me and hope I was not born to fall,
I was their hope I understand...

I feel the urge to confirm to them,
I am not a rash ...
I am not lost....
I am full of force,
It is just that my struggles haven't bore fruits.
My vibrating legs and limbs,
Have stopped my lips from opening,
My hungry stomach ,is not giving me any peace,
My racing brain,
Is closing my eyes,
My ears too,they no longer hear.
I am reduced to pieces.
Perhaps my dream was not valid.

If all never go well,
Please God,heal the scars I leave.
Heal the hearts of my lovely kids
Heal the heart of my dear wife,
Heal the hearts of my children,
Please heal them.
As the stream of thoughts pour endless,
God see my remaining journey .
Let me try one more thing,
To live the way you need.
To be humble,
To be of dignity,
To be of love,
To be of repentance,
To be who you need .

As I approach the grave
God,
Let me be somebody ,
So that ,I may see the change I hear.

I don't know what to wish
For in all I find myself to fish
Rascal and rushing
Fooling and revealing
But in all, I loose.

i cannot say this,
but money with all its value,
is just but like leaves to life.
.
to life money has no value,
but
a
source of comfort.