Olayiwola Olarewaju Metamofosis


Some questions are left unanswered
Some dreams are unfulfilled.
I float, yes, I float on the lake of nausea
And now in my closet I sulk.
I mope, I sob, yes, I mourn
But my tears are drained.
I have cried many times
And crying makes no more sense to me.
So I gazed the bleak horizon when I heard the boss had gone.

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