Like a growing child,
His heart is filled with sweet tomorrows,
Never mindful of what trouble might be,
Many could pierce themselves,
With troubles yet unknown,
He asked, deep down from his heart,
Can a mother forget her suckling child?
In his wisdom, he answered and said
Yes they can,
Sad as it may appear,
Even in a night of frost,
Comes the discernment,
Failure lies in the ***** of the fool,
The morrow is bright,
By day or by night,
In his own pathway,
Plants he the most beautiful flowers,
A garden that speaks of the future unseen,
Though living in the world of men,
Encircled by uncaring people,
Nature could speak of their cruelty too,
Upon the matter, so heavy and so tough,
Still in his heart,
Enshrined his love for mankind,
Many a blessings never ceased from his lips,
Upon every step, proceeded the most beautiful words,
He wish all could find the long awaited golden day,
With each one, little or no troubles,
With fortunes ten times more,
With sunlight shining across a thousand hills,
And bluebirds in every single tree,
With thousand blossoming flowers,
In their kinds giving the sweetest fragrance ever known to man,
With little or no worries,
And loneliness and depression,
All fading oblivion,
In every heart, the most beautiful song written,
With a single purpose of mind,
A world free of hate and wars,
At a glance, comes in the ugly picture of the day,
But he still could press on with eager step,
And that word resounding over and over again,
Failure lies in the ***** of the fool,
Though one can't win forever,
A truth undeniable,
Again, you can't be a loser forever,
For sure, the path is bright,
And the morrow is beautiful,
Upon this note,
He could rest his case,
And the weapons of hate,
All banished.
C.2019 Moses Michael N.

Words are spoken,
Again, and again it can be repeated,
Can it endure many a time?
So true, put it down,
Many a generation can never forget,
With this, I see the bigger light,
Though lost in the depth of doubt,
Within me, words are fading away so quickly,
It is true, but what is wrong?
I am lost, sank in the wonder of thought,
Can this be real?
Can anyone help me?
I call, it sounds so near,
But resounding from many thousand miles away,
Am I sleeping?
Can anyone wake me up?
For I am lost in the maze of thought,
The formal seems to appear the later,
But in my heart I can tell,
Without quivering in my tune,
The later is often better than the formal,
Why this thought?
Why are words suddenly fading away?
How can this be?
Suddenly my hand turned weak,
So feeble, I could tell from the follow of my words,
The ink and a piece of paper many at times makes it right for me,
What is happening?
Many a words suddenly is gone away into the air,
Like stars of the morning,
Losing their lights in the glorious morn,
So true, and so strong,
I refuse that ugly feelings of doubt,
Laughter is ever near,
A liberty of classical antiquity,
The pen, the ink, and the paper,
Never in my imagination will lose its credibility,
A powerful tools that only the wise can tell its worth,
Indeed the pen is mighty,
Melting and diminishing all that pains and hurt,
But what is wrong with me?
Again and again I asked myself,
Am I making sense?,
Again I asked within me,
Can the wonder of pure thoughts fade oblivion?
Deep down my soul there is a disagreement,
Whether they agree or disagree,
Only the free in mind can understand,
The pen is indeed great,
With the ink and a piece of paper,
I can make it right once again,
Riding off the captivity of that wicked being,
I have been shown what is right,
By the Ancient One,
In my mind, no unwanted plants can grow,
Am in love again and again with my pen and that clean white sheet of paper,
I can make it right once again,
Cant you see?
I can see the light now,
The hand again is strong.
C. Moses Michael N 2019.

Why **** yourself?
You are not alone!
You are not alone!
Though many at times,
Appears moments of pains and gloom,
With life, everything comes and goes.

Why **** yourself?
Pains, miseries,
Blues, and lack,
Will it ever cease?
You are not alone!
You are not alone!
With life, there is hope.

Why **** your self?
Don't tie that rope
No, no you don't have to,
Time is a great healer,
Though life is full doubt,
With so much uncaring folks,
With life, there is a lifting up.

Why **** yourself?
Shake up, shake up,
Why look down?
Gaze upon the sky,
Can't you see?
You are not alone!
You are not alone!
With life, comes cooling.

Why **** yourself?
Though moments of miseries,
Seems often so long,
Dark moments of untold hardship,
You are not alone!
You are not alone!
With life, there is a time of laughter,
Suicide is not the answer.

C. Moses Michael Nwokoma 2019.

can go a thousand miles to make it known,
Will I ever cease singing?
Over and over I shall publish it,
For all to hear, for all to know,
In the plains, and over the valleys,
In the hills, and on the mountain tops,
I will shout and sing,
The most precious gift, have I,
Her beauty is beyond compare,
Her smile, so charming and pleasing,
Like a breath of spring,
Her eyes, emerald green,
Her voice like the cool gentle rain of the night,
So soothing and delighting,
Can a mortal being with such a precious gift,
Cease from singing?
Her value is more than rubies,
The sardius, topaz, and diamond,
With all manner of precious stones,
A million times will I choose her,
A gift from heaven,
What more can I ask,
I have been loved by the best.
C. Moses Michael N 2019.

Though hard the journey appears,
In my heart, it is issued,
Soon my happy heart will quiver,
With melody of peace,
Though many on earth never will understand,
What hope burns within my heart,
My soul rejoices, amid many toils,
Indeed it will come and go,
The signs are seen and displayed all around,
I can feel it deep down my inner self,
Grace like a shield has become for me,
With living Creator to guide and to lead,
What fear have I?
By day or by night, the host there off,
In attendance they wait,
To give and to save,
For many lies in wait to **** and oppress,
In my heart I asked, can a mortal soul,
In fight stand for he the Maker has hedged?
They may not understand,
They may not know,
I am on a journey,
Soon I shall reach the golden strand,
With its crystal tide flowing from the throne above,
There is melody of peace,
And I have been numbered.
C. Moses Michael N. 2019.