Ripe the garden plants, bright the flowers they bear For bees to frolic and play till in future fruits be bare. But I look at
They say glass is made from sand, and I’ve witnessed In documentaries how men take the so-rough-and-ugly To make these marvelous pieces, that hold the
When you cross the Pearly Gates, will you sing for mum? I recall those tender dew watered Yaoundé morns When the cassette spun your voice
#FarhadAkale shot to death, gone too soon. till we meet again!
I loved deep but saying “I love you” was an Isaac sacrifice, …till the well ran dry
As a little boy, I wondered why I have a mum.
All she did was shout when I was gaming;
Whip me when the VHS entertained me;
But as I got older, I now know why I miss my mum.