The good old days
Where actually bad
Few slices of bread
Fueled the ventral pouch
To sprout the beard
And make fantasy hope
In a dream of fairies
Transcending in sleep
On hearing a lullaby
The good old days
The flow of blue blood
But mine was not
No silvern cutlery
Nor glass to live in
So I could throw stones
At peaching crows
That got no funeral
But only grew
To form black blood
The good old days
Seem better today
Olarenwaju
My wealth is the future
So I respect God
All others are past
I shall be beautiful
When my time comes
To be at last
S. O. Lanre is an Author and a Poet, He is currently an
undergraduate in one of Nigeria’s A-list federal University. His breath taking
novel, IMPULSE is just a few steps away from the public domain.
Contact: 08088996284
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