What oft matures in nine-months
Now stays too long to bear
Weary and dreary,
Of a belly trespassing its bounds
Surgeons upon surgeons
All giving vain promises
Hence this bizarreness which grows in me
My burden is aggravated by the smirks and scorns of my very own -
The very those l look upto living again!
Indifferent;
They seem to joy by their abrasive address to my misery
Surmise to say;
The surgeons' lack of foresight
Makes me runt
And your indiscreetness demeans my reputation
When the prognosis of my morbid state lies in your actions
This dire condition!
By Yakubu Anawiyat
wiyanigerians.blogspot.com
Now stays too long to bear
Weary and dreary,
Of a belly trespassing its bounds
Surgeons upon surgeons
All giving vain promises
Hence this bizarreness which grows in me
My burden is aggravated by the smirks and scorns of my very own -
The very those l look upto living again!
Indifferent;
They seem to joy by their abrasive address to my misery
Surmise to say;
The surgeons' lack of foresight
Makes me runt
And your indiscreetness demeans my reputation
When the prognosis of my morbid state lies in your actions
This dire condition!
By Yakubu Anawiyat
wiyanigerians.blogspot.com
The surgeons that has the wherewithal
ReplyDeleteThe surgeons blessed with prognosis of affairs
The surgeons with blades of recompense
Are all placed in the dugeons of hell by the bourgeouse
The result is a dearth of goodness
A dearth of accomplishment
The dire strait is still embryonic
The problems might metamophose into a big mountain of burden
But with you and I and positiveness
With you and I as an abinger of good will
We will rescue the surgeons
We will reshape the embryo
We will not have a still birth
But a bundle of joy.
By DJking King
ReplyDeleteThe surgeons that has the wherewithal
The surgeons blessed with prognosis of affairs
The surgeons with blades of recompense
Are all placed in the dugeons of hell by the bourgeouse
The result is a dearth of goodness
A dearth of accomplishment
The dire strait is still embryonic
The problems might metamophose into a big mountain of burden
But with you and I and positiveness
With you and I as an abinger of good will
We will rescue the surgeons
We will reshape the embryo
We will not have a still birth
But a bundle of joy.