Perfection Poem by Olorode Olorunleke

In the spice of a glorious hour
Here my flesh laid as a man in a journey unreturned
The spirit has taken its lift above the ocean that no one could dare its power
Just as Gbenga Disu made his way without a goodbye nor did he say anything about his return
From it had Eve been made and handed to her boo
Hence it's common in us that the seventh rib is a fragile being
Yet in it perfection was built that which I am eager to be inclined with too
the drum in me says in a loud voice that what a man can do, a woman can do it better
Not because the magnificent shape that do drive us almost to a canal
But the spring of our perfection is in them for that which the creator Has made all things
Hear my prayers oh divine that my lost rib in me gets to me soonest
no sooner that my eyes opened than I knew that I've not rest in the bosom of my God.