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Gothboy Feb 2020
:)
You can get f by the system
Or you can say "f the system"
fraudelle Feb 2020
If I'll be a black smith
I'll make a helmet made up of cheese

So that they'll never see me sad again
Say cheeeesseeeee
Adamu Danjuma Dec 2020
The society rejected them.
They were ejected from their homes.

Disjointed hands.
Broken legs.
Pitiful faces.
Mournful silence ...
They cried and felt like crying again.
They cried again.
They yawned and felt like yawning again.
They yawned again.

They are the homeless children you are seeing here and there.
They are the hopeless old men and women you are seeing in the mornings and in the evenings.

No one cares to give them a chance to emerge on the surfaces of the earth and win more wins.

They are those beggars and street-boys.
They were long time ago mercilessly molested by the tryrans and their allies.

Today and tomorrow,
And the days, and the years, after tomorrow:
Let them find some places to rest.
Give them a place in your heart to find solace.

They have no sugar.
And they don't seem to have tasted its sweetness.

To drink tea,
They use a handful of their tears.
In lieu of a comb,
They use twigs.

They have no perfumed clothes.
Theirs are torn shirts and hats fumed by the vapour of a cooking ***.

To watch a movie,
They use a mirror.
Through it,
They see nothing than their faces.
They say mirror is their television.

The poignancy of poesy shaped their potentials.
Under the influence of the Poet, a plume spoke:

'I dream of a society where the less privileged ones will enjoy freedom and financial independence.'

With the above in mind, the less privileged ones would be considered as an integral part of the world.

They are capable yet they can do zellions of amazing things.
Give them chances to thrive.

Their yesterdays saw them famished.
They were once hopeless.
God blessed them.
Smiles of courage and hope illuminated their faces.
They were once neglected as well as segregated.
They need to be encouraged and supported.

On their education enough money should be invested.
To enable them learn skills and acquire sound knowledge needed for self-development and progress across the globe.

Adamu Danjuma
Every child counts
Delia Grace Feb 2020
What if when we grow old
we rotted the way fruit does?
What if, as we crinkle in on ourselves,
we earn soft spots
where the mold has eaten us away?
We are plucked from our trees so young,
but we are ripe for so long.

What if when we rot
someone larger and grander
who can fit us in their hand
smiles as they throw us into the woods?
We hit trees and gain triumphant cheers.
We befriend the leaves
and we rot together.

What if when we grow old
we grew new life?
What if, as we crease and hunch,
we grow down and down
until we are rooted in place?
And we can be tall again
and beautiful.
2/15/20
Delia Grace Feb 2020
It’s a crime
to paint such flowers
with so crude a brush.
Your skills, my lord,
confound me
and I present myself
to you humbly.
Your fingers are
calloused
and jagged, their edges
can cut if you’re not careful.
You touch so soft
your skin to mine
and I sizzle in your grasp.
You are the warmest
part of me and
even you are now
embers, but it is not
my duty anymore
to stoke the ashes,
as deeply as I wish
you would burn again for me.
A flick of the eyes
and a trick of the tongue
are welcomed warmly
by my singing heart.
1/20/20
Asominate Feb 2020
From the heart
Giving what's there, what's true
I lose them all
So that I'll gain you
Your ears always tuned in
For my call
Genuine worship
I give you my all
Colm Jan 2020
No matter how tall you walk
How modern you get
How far you seem to fall
Or how hard you try and forget

The stars will always wink and smile
The waves will always crash goodbye
Just as the sun will always set on you
And the earth will always rise

And so you shall also remember
Until the day you die
Remember
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