okeme james

The Journey may seems to take days
but I think I know my way
taking a look at the others
I wished they were my brothers
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Sometimes, I wished I never heard
about some things, they mingle with
the thought of the idled mind.
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A great epitome of beauty
Oh! What a splendid view
Never to forget memorable events
Together with those captured unaware
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I am unique and special
Pure and clean without spot, holy without sin
Made from stainless materials
From me reflexes the radiant beauty of the sun
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For him who came into this wicked world first
To greet the people and to breathe the air with dust
His cry was loud that I could hear it in the womb
Since we were two, they expected me soon.
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Like the early morning sun her beauty rises
Day by day it grows like the grasses
A beauty that causes lot of crises
But beyond is what the eyes can’t see.
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Can life be said to be really fair?
When there are many things to be feared
Where many indeed are afraid of losing it
And some not bothered taking it.
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Very small its size may be
So is its dwelling place where it is slotted
But it secures its vicinity
And that is the power of the key
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Come out everyone, come out ooooo
From the sucking toddlers to the aged ones
Leave whatever you seem to be doing.
It’s of no important for now
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It was a very long journey
Long enough to make one sleep on the way
But as brave as I was, I didn’t have a nap
Guess why? I walked it till my legs ached to my laps
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As a pauper you crept into our cities
And on you, many took pity
Sheltered you and gave you food
But now we all are taken to be fools
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God can be so Caring
That He made the brook supply Elijah water to drink
And the ravens brought him bread and meat
Every morning and evening.
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Soon, very soon
It won’t last till noon
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Oh! How I pine for you daily
As farmers yearn for the rainy days
And I long to see you always
Like the watchmen long for day break.
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THE-PENCIL

What kind of life am I born into?
So boring a life can be
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It's so agonizing to see you leave
To watch you walk out of my life
But forget not the promises you made
When you called me your first love
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Here I come again wise one
To sit at your feet
And hear those tales about my country,
My ears always itch to hear.
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Rejoice not, oh death
For your end is near
Your strength ends here
In this wicked world
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