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AuwalPoems
I remember when we were dodgers, of intiger's paracetamol of computation... Not knowing it was a fertilization... That better production... I remember when I ran a relay race With fellow folks on blue and white Singing a song, 'Fire  on the Mountain, Run, run, run!' The noise and sweat is over today My legs are on the stop line... And the baton is taken... If I remember how we learned... we leaned... we ran as union... I feel like reversing to school... Returning to form a union... But if I remember the ugly and sad times, I had in primitive period... I feel like not going back ... To the dead period buried on ground Suddenly today comes a time When all graduates come To remember primal class, methinks there comes not a time When all GHS products would come... On dining table and dine... Like when we were primary children... Dear our teachers you are like farmers That farm on our lands For long planting seeds Know that it will never give heat Your service is unrewardable Only God can reward you All the shade we spread now Comes after your fertilization Written By Muhammad Auwal Ibrahim
0
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
BLUE AND WHITE DAYS
I remember when we were dodgers, of intiger's paracetamol of computation... Not knowing it was a fertilization... That better production... I remember when I ran a relay race With fellow folks on blue and white Singing a song, 'Fire  on the Mountain, Run, run, run!' The noise and sweat is over today My legs are on the stop line... And the baton is taken... If I remember how we learned... we leaned... we ran as union... I feel like reversing to school... Returning to form a union... But if I remember the ugly and sad times, I had in primitive period... I feel like not going back ... To the dead period buried on ground Suddenly today comes a time When all graduates come To remember primal class, methinks there comes not a time When all GHS products would come... On dining table and dine... Like when we were primary children... Dear our teachers you are like farmers That farm on our lands For long planting seeds Know that it will never give heat Your service is unrewardable Only God can reward you All the shade we spread now Comes after your fertilization Written By Muhammad Auwal Ibrahim
Feeling the nostalgia of High School days
Auwal
Written by
Auwal
19/M
Dec 31, 2017
Dec 31, 2017 at 11:35 AM UTC
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