
Walk along with me for the rest of life,
staying on with me whatever my strive.
Never cut my faith as a steeled knife,
but clasp my affections, all that I give.

Witty Written Works

Walk along with me for the rest of life,
staying on with me whatever my strive.
Never cut my faith as a steeled knife,
but clasp my affections, all that I give.

to have money without fame,
to have power without blame,
to have common public sense
without social media nonsense?

Takes lifetimes to know
and lives ending to show
if all the choices we made
were good or proper as said.

World is one rolling marvel;
it’s a rotating ball on travel.
Going no where that’s new,
repeats things it ever knew.

A Poem Written in honor of Late Prof. Adamu DÂ Baikie
                                                Â
A comet; the rarest celestial guest,
storms into our lives on one quest.
To marvel us with awe and wonder;
fills our thoughts and we all ponder.
Is such a creation of God or of men,
its gifts talents or effort of the pen?
But where long toiling sowed pain,
its grooming had reaped such gain.

And amongst us stood in greatness
a simple creation amidst such mess.
In dogged humility and proud stance,
the most astute in any circumstance.
Time stole from us but left us a gift,
one we will cherish, long as we’re fit.
That experience of the rarest person,
who against all odds shows reason.

https://youtube.com/live/ckdKwA5vAKw?si=33P-q-NlE9sGvb4x

Men play short games.
Women play long games.
A man may win every battle,
so his wife wins wars as simple.

Everyone would die sometime
and surely it will be knowingly.
Every moment and every time,
just brings it only closer surely.

Old is not necessarily wise,
new is not particularly nice.
Friendly could be deceptive,
disagreements constructive.

The world is full of bullies,
pretending to be buddies.
Their friendship are traps,
set and kept like easy taps.

The times are always changing
with people forever complaining.
Not that it’s the people changing
but times aren’t also complaining.

Hello friends,
I have recently released a musical album, which is Available on Spotify & Apple Music: Links below:
https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2Mk1tVSw1EQzhTd5nnqPyo?si=DDcJHI79THmsVSdS5IPIYg
https://music.apple.com/ng/album/worried-in-the-world-ep/1866998237?ls
Kindly support me by streaming and downloading the songs.
Much appreciated…

When days pass on quicker
and time spent quite swifter,
all patience becomes quieter.
All listening becomes learned,
life lived longer becomes aged.

The silence of the wicked,
holds the innocent captive.
Their inactivity is not sacred,
but quiet cruelty just inactive.

Lives of all people are precious,
just as are their time and future.
If this makes anyone as anxious,
only questions their own culture.

When time is spent and gone
it doesn’t feel used or through.
Rather it feels kept and borne,
like old memory of some worth.

The reason behind a wish
is not always same in each.
Could be act of desperation
or the result of consideration.

Where the envious prowl,
there enmity would crawl.
Where cooperation works,
there good progress talks.

The world is enormous
and life can be torturous.
But the many little kindness
keeps the weak in happiness.

A Camel once told its owner
that it was old and will retire.
Owner says he is much older,
so still they worked on for hire.

If festivals were one meal
they will only be one for real,
that dressed up hyped bread,
that’s repeated than out of bed.

There is a presence around us,
holding onto us and is our boss.
We feel it in every way possible
but some deny this fact simple.

One joyous moment away
and world changes its say
on what the past had said
or whatever its future laid.

Days of old have crept away
with their wonders and sway.
Ancients had trailed a course
that has held without a pause.

Eyes of the elderly have seen,
most of which had ever been.
They have worried in thought,
smiled and cried all their worth.

Happy boys are young men,
playing futures without pain.
Inside their laughing thoughts,
world is a big party until it rots.

Days go by with little wonder,
time flows away making older.
Once we were young and silly,
soon we turned old and goofy.

World feels like a cage;
lifestyle its prison stage.
Time a running sentence,
none is guilty or innocence.

What it takes to love
gives from up above,
like rain from the sky
it doesn’t need to try.

Arise you giant grounded puddle,
overcome your doubt and trouble.
Lift thyself from where you’re placed,
drain that mulky gut and be surfaced.

May the days that come ahead
be better than those put to bed.
May the shoes we will grow into
make our forebears as proud too.

Time stops when we die.
Our time as we may know it
would grind to a halt as we lie.
All else would work on as they fit.

When the visitors finally come
men will host their visible form
same way they host all guests
with quite suspicious requests.

When time passes and we age,
laughter should grace our stage.
When everything had been seen,
knowledge should ease our being.

Lie a bit, there’s time enough for truth.
Too much worries upsetting our root.
People toiling daily, merely to exist,
let jokes, tales and fiction persist.

Multiple trips in one journey,
gathers chapters of one story.
Takes you where it so pleases,
with it consultations as excuses.

People would take every single decision,
appearing to build their final destination.
But truly life takes us where it pleases,
without regards to our plan or its ease.

It takes two to tango,
three to make a mess.
Maybe it’s best to let go,
accept blame and confess.

Every new day is stolen from death,
as every step needs another breath.
Time passes with refreshen notice;
mountain of time finishes with ease.

Most times it’s best to let it go,
take a breath in a minute or so,
walk away like it didn’t happen;
facing calm peacefully heaven.

People will always seek to please,
it is a default setting without ease.
They’ll go out of their way to love,
then become the problem to solve.

All the things I wanted to do,
had all gone pass as I waited.
Brilliance I had imagined to do,
had merely just stayed ill-fated.

Life is sh!t on it very own
without adding much to it.
Once a good thing is shown,
allow it burn out on its own lit.

Today could be your end,
not as you may’ve intended.
Your end may be out waiting,
its old patience already ending.

Forgetting our old heroes,
turns all old goods to zeros.
Because of new things done,
can’t forget warm memories gone.

Death taketh away my speech,
puts my fears closest to reach.
The world takes a quiet break,
as I ponder on comforts I seek.

Secrets are hard to keep
because they don’t sleep.
Always and forever awake,
waiting for mischief’s sake.

Secrets are hard to keep
because they don’t sleep.
Always and forever awake,
waiting for mischief’s sake.

Secrets are hard to keep
because they don’t sleep.
Always and forever awake,
waiting for mischief’s sake.

Nothing is ever fully known,
nothing is really fully shown.
At some point all men know,
they’ll have nothing to show.

Fear is most hard to overcome,
as time is necessary to become.
Love might be quickest to fade;
as is courage, to keep that made.

Good folks do bad things,
bad people do good things.
For the right reason maybe,
the wrong is as right can be.