Timothy Faboade Poems

Unto some a nice name is given
The riches of the world they enjoy
By treasure and pleasure they're driven
Gold, silver, bronze they enjoin,
...

Thousand choices before me
Each presenting its possible best
Hoarding its other side for me
Each jostling for my chest.
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When a tear drops,
An ocean in the mind,
When a word finds
Its ways without a stop
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It tears and divides us apart,
Along several parallel lines,
Branded with Love, it starts
And from the dark, shines.
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She rolls and rolls in the pool
Dug deeply by the ones she keeps
With innumerable destructive tools,
Just to suite the insatiable needs.
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How short does Fame live?
How ephemeral can glory be?
Unlike bees they lack a hive
To dwell for all to have and see.
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'Man', said He, 'Shouldn't alone be,
For him, from his ribs I'll create a holy help,
Who shall look like his real self
And the two a couple shall divinely be.'
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Brothers of a curly mother
Share a thick sealed border
Against one another
They lock the one door
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The sore will never stop pouring pus,
The more it's refreshed, the more
It reproduces though not fruits but pus.
When the wound is healed
...