Night falls after the sun
And to homes we all return
Counting the days stress and toil
Letting the darkened kettle boil
And preying our eyes on passing people
While we eat out plates of sweet potato
When the full moon come out
The whole clan makes a sit-out
The infants, the boys, girls, men, women and clowns
And for those who love the buzz of night life in the town
Tales told about the strong and tall Giraffe
And how she ate the sickly moon half
Hope grows in any determined mind
To courage and self-believe, he is binded
The struggles and pains of the years past
Ride his mind like the reins of a horse
Things do not fall in place as expected always
But the strong in trust and faith wins the day
Discover more from Oke’s Musings: Poetry, People and Places
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