Always in my hearing
Each time I ran out of my track
My conscience shouts!
You have been warned Olajide
It shouted so many times
Remember,says mother's voice
So soon to have forgotten
Mother seated at the edge
Of her wooden bed
At the corner of her bed saying
''Olajide my son
You are my hope
My season
My morning, noon and evening time
The seed
I have been watering
My vineyard you are''
My conscience remember me
All parent are sowers
All they need is a return
A bountiful one
My son, my son
Are you counting my calls
And you said yes
You are my seed
Be viable
You were implored
Don't be spoilt
And know the son of whom you are
My whole go with you
As whole of snell shell
Goes all ways with it
Mother prayed
As you stepped out
To the future
As the spinner are never,
Tired of spinning their cotton
The weaver works on their
And fire blazes always in the,
Blacksmith hut
Mother's voice, remember
My conscience says.
Mar 26, 2013
Mar 26, 2013 at 10:10 AM UTC
Always in my hearing
Each time I ran out of my track
My conscience shouts!
You have been warned Olajide
It shouted so many times
Remember,says mother's voice
So soon to have forgotten
Mother seated at the edge
Of her wooden bed
At the corner of her bed saying
''Olajide my son
You are my hope
My season
My morning, noon and evening time
The seed
I have been watering
My vineyard you are''
My conscience remember me
All parent are sowers
All they need is a return
A bountiful one
My son, my son
Are you counting my calls
And you said yes
You are my seed
Be viable
You were implored
Don't be spoilt
And know the son of whom you are
My whole go with you
As whole of snell shell
Goes all ways with it
Mother prayed
As you stepped out
To the future
As the spinner are never,
Tired of spinning their cotton
The weaver works on their
And fire blazes always in the,
Blacksmith hut
Mother's voice, remember
My conscience says.
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