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Life is a mirror of choices we make
For our dreams to come alive
We need; faith in ourselves
To be strong, fearless and to do it right
Yet, if success eludes our plans at first
We try it again and again
We all, are authors
Each, given a led and a book
To give an account of our Odyssey in life
Some bad books taken off the shelf
On the reckoning day
Condemned along with their authors
For failure to amend their missteps

Good ones, with smiles
In the faces of their authors
Were shelved by the Creator, matters least is sizes
Some were shelved despite series of erasing
With good contents
Tiny, medium, big books alike, displayed
As Master presents the gifts to writers
Kiddies are such a beauty
The excitement and esteem they offer
They are heritage from the Maker
Fruits, and like arrows to the warrior

If time could be magical
As we all, have once been kids
Some would wish those times returned
To fulfill task left undone

It’s time to celebrate
Their togetherness and awareness
For those who crave or struggle to make
The moment is just around the corner
Let no hateful words be said
To our masters who offer no rest
Nor enough Uncle Ben' heads
To holiday in Paris
For our job is huge

Let no painful feeling be felt
About our learners lost in studies
Nor their parents who care less
Or even worse
We should do our parts

Let no unhappy thought be nursed
About the call we choose
To discover, save, improve
And make better
Till our job is done.
                                        
Esan O.S.
Like a candle slowly melting
Burn brightly yet fade slowly
Is when you toil with little rest
Its now time to close those  eyes
That wake in the night at the least of sounds
As the **** crow
I take my chamomile, pepprmint or green, then
I stroll before the sun comes out
I take some ***** with chums before night crawls in, then seek solace from my creator before l lay
I do my rest and the rest is up to you
    
             Esan O. S.
Gift,
finally arrives,
family, friends await.
I peep, seeking one bestow’d?
amongst couple of others,
He smiles,
upon hearing my voice
that makes lullabies at night?
he slides the flannel that lies across to put face to daddy’s voice.
Cuttie,
welcome to the world,
little me, another part of the brood, and a boy.
Take a Picture

Take a picture, take a picture
Take a picture of what it was
Before this scary tiny sucker arrived from asia
'nd took the globe his captive
living millions of homes empty

Take a picture, take a picture
Take a picture of young nd old
Take, for those fragile ones as they taste better
He shredded even the strong
and made fool of our science

Take a picture, take a picture
Take a picture of those around now,
Do all promising vaccines refuse to work?
Or why are deads lying on the street
And mum can't hug sickling kid

Take a picture, take a picture
Take a picture of yourselves and the love ones
Of when washing hands, masked and socially distanced
Take it to remind you how lucky you are
when the  captor has gone and the world is free

— The End —