Dimu Eric Olowo
In Search of Futility
Many a times ponder I
On the purpose of existence.
What really was I designed
To do in my brief sojourn
Here in this little globe.
Or is it still the old routine
Of acquiring a degree
And burning out my prime hours.
Labouring behind desks
Toiling round the face of time.
To've a family and provide
For them the vitals of life
Then live seven or eight decades
And end it all up, six feet below
The surface, what an irony.
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