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Oh! I am far from you Fiona
You have painted much aura.
Ready was i to always smile
And was shy to talk for a while.

As i go down the memory lane
I know my nostalgia is not in vain
There and then you stormed the stage
And of my book, you were in every page.

Oh! Fiona, all about you has changed face But your beauty still takes its place
Guys would turn their heads for you then
But you didn't know i was using my pen

Today, i recall how you've been
And i imagined how often you are seen
Now if i embrace nature or grace,
One day i'll see you face to face.

Missing you.
A poem of nostalgia of an high school crush, Far From Fiona is a true life story that dates back to 2005 and really underlines the importance of observation and note-taking.
And I remember every minute
You have been a ten-over-ten
Perfectly filling that single seat
And I am the happiest among men

You are the gift called Heaven-sent
You are my treasure, beauty-personified
The world of happiness you did invent
Is a discovery that makes me magnified

The gorgeous visage you have always worn
Is a virtue obvious to all and even to the blind
This is the time a sweet damsel was born
Endowed with a good heart and sound mind

Today I recall the ways you have made me
The completeness you have made my life
I recall the perpetual joy you made me see
And divine grace of being my God-given wife

I'm happy I have you.
Happy birthday Passion.
I cried as I saw pimples in her dimples
Encycling her two cheeks like ripples
She was the one that got all my respect
To her I gave my time, no day of neglect
She was always having my annual rose
And her smile, my only efficient dose

I wept as I saw pimples in her dimples
As big as the size of Alaboyun's *******
She was a blend of white-blue always
And tarried for common, countless days
In the earliest moments of our fight
My emotional cord was tough and tight

I cried as I saw pimples in her dimples
For no more were those fresh apples
Those fruity, pleasant things she faked
As if there was no debris to be raked
She was always appearing ten-over-ten
And no signs of going from men to men

I wept as I saw pimples in her dimples
For I taught we'd be best among couples
The soft fingers of her green flowers
Captivated me every twenty-four hours
Then the flowers had music and mellow
Their nectars today are in sweet sorrow

I cried as I saw pimples in her dimples
Encycling her two cheeks like ripples
Her folks called me a playing tool
And her best friend, a funny fool
I danced through her demanding soul
I almost got crippled by its ***-hole

Now I cried as I saw those two dimples
Molested by her open, plenty pimples
If I knew she went after many men
I would have left her there and then
Had I known she nurtured many wrinkles
I'd have gone before an eye twinkles.
This poem explains what you notice when a so-called well-behaved lover turns out to be an unscrupulous, wayward individual. Invariably, he or she must have been skillfully pretentious from the outset. #Pretence, #Immorality
That I revealed my true colour
When everything in you was blurred
That I showed my real nature
When everyone did emotional fraud
To think that you can bruise my shin
You must be sitting on a long thing

That I appeared to love your smell
Even when I saved your pictures of denial
That I listened to the fictions you did tell
When you tried to fake a wife material
To think you can ulcerate my soft skin
You must be sitting on a long thing

One man is so small for your capacity
That you have to include even a monster
Sticking with one lowers your integrity
So you invite many to mark the register
To think my hand will be under my chin
You must be sitting on a long thing

That I laughed over you in silence
When you played the smart fool
That you appeared under the public lens
When you made yourself a laughing tool
Now that God has made me to win
You are truly sitting on a long thing
A popular expression used in Nigeria, "sitting on a long thing" implies a situation whereby someone is fooling him or herself.  A nice inspiration indeed!
With rapture on and on I played
Hoping to cease if the stars'd fade
Strong, smart as my father's son
Sure! I was not a fiddler for fun

At twilight out of my house I crept
Each instance was a promise kept
To your ears under Iroko I'd croon
And our third party was the moon

As I inhaled the lines turn by turn
I knew our love was born to burn
At home they lived in my blue box
Hard to break like igneous rocks

Now the box has priceless value
For saving the love for me and you
Now my lines find a safe avenue
To embrace integrity and virtue

Then I sang for you with my violin
Now I hold it more under my chin
I am like the box or the loyal bird
Each time i try to keep my word
A story of trust between two people using the box and the Pigeon (loyal bird) as symbolism. #Fidelity
And as the moonlight came closer
You and I saw us sitting by the sea-side
And as our hearts drew nearer
You and I saw lips that never lied
As I listened to your sweet rhymes
Your tongue moved a thousand times

Between us the birds dropped their feathers
Whispering to themselves about you and me
On the coastal trees heard we their twitters
Hitting everywhere and thus rolling the sea
Your eyes were raptured looking into mine
And I became sure our affection was divine

As we heard the murmurs of the breeze
And the songs of the fronds around the air
I cuddled you and your hairs would freeze
You felt relieved and away ran your fear
Sea-side love seemed like earthly paradise
And its reflection emanated from your eyes

Bolatito, wherever you may be today
I wish you recall us and what we share
Remember how we use to love and play
And how my touch once killed your malaria
I can't wait to see you and repeat a walk
And do again our sea-side twilight talk
By Dr Oasis.

— The End —