Before fools began to recycle silliness
or love and *** became a commodity to be bought off the shelves of our desires.
Before muscle outranked intelligence
Or the loose were voted people of the year
Before a misguided girlfriend replaced a faithful wife
And hardwork was kicked out of the door by web scamming
Before ******* became only rounds of loveless ***
Common sense lived next to sanity on the street called society.
Because we were too busy watering the gardens of our stupidity
Common sense gradually lost all sense and sensibility
until there was nothing left to compose a corpse.
Very few of us attended the burial
Because almost all of us didn't realize it was gone...

Uncommon sense told you how high crack could get you
common sense agreed you were going to feel fly
But like an airplane, you'd eventually come crashing like a pack of cards.
Uncommon sense got her pregnant out of wedlock
While common sense was still preparing a future under a respectable roof.
The same society which kick against abortion
Serves the pregnant teenager a cold shoulder and self-righteous looks of disdain.

How do you ponder a picture without the painting
Or seperate the sea from the Navy?
Downloading apps to help bridge the gap between stupidy and foolishness
As the brain lies unused like an abandon project.
But like Lagbaja and his mask
The more you look, the less you see
The fool will always go shopping but will never put wisdom in the basket.

My head is full
Of ghosts

Of ideas,
things people have said,
and the way my heart crumpled.

Memories are for people
Who aren't haunted.

Ghosts are for people
who've been driven to the edge of sanity
and back again.

Always back again,
but not without
the ghosts.

Midst the ravishing night
There I stood in angst and agony
Before the distant arch
Beneath the firmament radiant bright
Conquered by my own longevity
Waiting in a shell of a body
For the time to be right
Trying to run, trying to escape
But perhaps what's held me in place
Are the demons I draped

Within me lies a scar of survival
Carved by the blades of insanity
Of what little sanity that's s left
That fades away in the smog of my self-rival
In this night dim enough,silence silent enough
Against my vision, Against my throat
Plead the Watcher of the skies
To battle,end the fight;my fight
Would all this ease my pain?
Or is this just a fallen effort with no gain

In the silence and fear that drove me here
Striking down the life i knew
Here I stand on that arch
Letting the demons empower me
Allowong them to make me void
The past regrets only question me
Am I dream? Or am I dreaming
Is this a testimony I must confess?
Should I fight them one more time
Or would it be best to cease?

We, three children,
bound by that gossamer of a weaving.
Oh, Mama’s moon.
“I’ll cook one for each of you, my triumvirate.”

“One I give to you, my Oldest”.
She clasps it to her heart.
The tide rises,
men fall.

“To you Middle One, this.”
She tinkers the heart that made it.
The world bleeds,
men fall.

What of mine?
To oblivion it is: I will stash.
I, Older than my grandmother, and to her.
But Oblivion’s easy,  a fish caught mine.

Mama sung, we slept.
“Hush, my dear triumvirate, tomorrow
we’ll cook again.”
Crescent smiles formed our lips.
Three moons, crushed to smithereens;
And so was her sanity, and ours.