Waste Poem by Olorode Olorunleke

in my watch I look into the Titan of this life,
Moving from pillar to pole to suite the impulse that binds us.
Waste.

Beauty ugly this impulse never let to know haste in time to make a wife,

Most in act never worth the owners of the house.

Waste.

Does this mean all together will be in paradise?

Neither do anyone marry nor given in marriage,

This in time mean waste is my haste.

Don't touch my property or your head will be lay in cave,

When the owner of the soul come to claim it such restricted is the owner.

Slay your ego in the life abattoir else you be Nebuchadnezzar,

For I honor the humble but those in pride I look afar.

I want to make all the money on earth that my maker my time not give.

Put your mind at it that the beneficiaries of the June Lagos tanker explosion,

Are the lovers of work with nothing they returned to the maker.

Vanity upon vanity, all is vanity,

The advice of the King to them that are ready to wait.

Hear me as I exclaim you the acclaimed waster,

Hope you forget not that you're a waste as a dead rat.

Fear not anyone that can't kill the soul than the body,

But be afraid of him that can kill both the body and soul.

Dust for the dust, soil for the soil.