Poetry: Vacation


Bros which one con be vacation
You don hear say person leave hustle for this nation?
Shey na person wen don belle full dey find tooth pick
Man pikin never chop na to travel Im wan kick
Wida you sef
If I catch myself!

Shey mama Emeka joint still dey
Nna na there my own vacation dey hold everyday
As w dey hot today own don’t start
Isiewu with Udeku to take wash na the real pact



I yearn like a wishful child
To flutter away into the clouds
With arms covered with fluffy feathers
borrowed from the finest birds.
I dread a season beside the sun
When I can visit the sky
To rest by the moon’s inn
And put to sleep my earthly stress!
I crave a holiday
That spans a sabbath -holy day
So I can walk the streets of heaven
With peace that surpass every rest room.



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