"Iyalaya won! Ma demu l'egbe e"; clamors of voices on the street
I am the child of circumstances, left to live with my wits
Your lost son; cursed worse than Jabez, my sorrows to drown in paraga
the tedium of my life; smoke to smoke, cigarettes lit to death and anger
Between my legs, a constantly patrolled highway; my morals non-existent
My life's a movie of cheap words, quickies and 'loose' tags; my heart hurts and I repent
My tears cascade in the wind, I'm the voice of the street; howling pain from my heart
My language rough, my visage grim; hearken to my pleas as I am slowly torn apart
Oluwasina Niran
https://www.facebook.com/niranneil?fref=ts
wow!
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