LIFE By Olumide Olanrewaju
All are not satisfied Some are just contented
Some have Cups; some have barrels Some have flocks; some are barren
Our hope is faithless So we’ll be drinking from our mirage.
Nothing is distributed equally Everything needed is scattered properly
Caucuses germinate from classification Our unionism is a kind of segregation
We die to eat We tame what can kill
We are absent in our prime Our presents are not presented in our presence
We struggle to gather the best We enjoy distributing our burdens
Youths are battling with myopia Adults are the one using reading glasses
What we did was someone’s random thoughts Our un-actualized ideas will raise Nobelists
H E A V E N and E A R T H is 11 The 11 letters between I and U
Though a word can’t combine both worlds But “SHOW LOVE” will do
Hunt or get hunted But either way, we are all on death row Human Race is a one-life karma game currently played by us And us is what you see in the mirror
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