Personally, I oscillated between steadying my wings and braving the whirlwinds. That felt like digging my heels into quicksand.


Commuters. Bus Drivers. Clients. Waiter. Hungry humans in the restaurant. A jolly little boy. Lame beggar. Stranded road users. It’s 10.48pm as I type this. I arrived home exactly twenty minutes ago. Why? It rained.

Deep, a poem

Deep, a poem talks about the dept of being the same and changed and the dept of being what makes us decay.

We With Weak Lungs

Weak lungs are vulnerable as an empty shell, breaking at the slightest touch. This poem is dedicated to my lungs and my phobia for cold.

Giving: A Pair of Pears

He felt sorry for the ugly beggar, and even before the beggar asked, he offered half of the pears in the basket to the man saying, “I pray these pears are good for you.”

Ballon d’Or

  Ballon d’Or   because i know my days are numbered like football jersey i run with the single purpose of netting the ball in the net   soon, this 90 years of running around the sales pitch   hustling from post to post   dribbling past obstacles swift and slow   falling on hay […]


Restraint   accusing fingers,curious eyes,hushed voicescome crashing in like raging wavesknocking off the shadowsof self-control. you shut your eyesand let the mayhem slow fadeand drown in your yesteryears in the scent of akara frying by the roadside,the faint tick-tock, tick-tockof your neighbour’s grandfather clock.and the rushing sound of waterdown the drainto Aba river. in the […]

The Last Butterfly

The Last Butterfly “Poor little butterfly,” the young girl said. “Poor little butterfly.” Then reaching down slowly so as to not scare it away, she slid her tiny fingers underneath, urging it to step upon her hand. It would appear to anyone that this delicate creature was lifeless leaving behind remains of what once was. […]

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