Escribir

  The radios sang it like a song; peace talks had failed. Dad said war was coming, mom said we were leaving. They came in droves—the recruiters. They needed more men to fight the war they had started. I was barely a young boy so I wasn't considered. Dad called a meeting. He had been picked to represent our family. I remember seeing the postman come in looking very ragged. The letter in his hand was more ragged than he was, it had specs of blood at the base of it. Mom screamed when she saw the heading of the letter, "DEATH NOTIFICATION", written in capital letters. I was fourteen so I couldn't understand why she screamed. The postman looking very unconcerned about her feelings said "The war dey very difficult for the front, we need more men." Mom said no, but her opinion didn't count, because I was whisked and thrown into the back of a truck. There were twenty-five of us, the oldest 18 and the youngest 12. We were sent to a camp and put through some ...

  My heart bleeds yet it sings My heart knows what is and what's not My heart is real and can't lie It knows how to sing and cry The heart can be the most deceitful of them all It can be swerved by the wind It can be moved by emotions—hurts The heart can sing, cry, bleed and love Love; the heart is being controlled by it Love; the heart pours it out in abundance Love; the things the heart does in its name You can't imagine Yet, the heart of men is desperately wicked Says the Holy books But my heart is controlled by Love—Love of God So my heart sings, it doesn't bleed By: Eddy Bassey

  Nigerian syndrome Everything has to be a lie, or not completely true It's just too good to be true How can it be that cheap? How can it be this simple? No not here; not in this country You can't just give me a free lift; you definitely want something from me How can you offer a voluntary service? No not here; not in this country You saw the money in a bag and you didn't pick it up? That's hard to believe; impossible I would say I could go on and on about this matter But hear me Ingenuity exists, so does genuity  Don't forget that Flee from this syndrome By: Sambasy

  When things were simpler Raindrops were considered joyous  And not a nuisance to our activities  Your clothing didn't matter As long as you were in—the game I mean When things were simpler Not having mega money wasn't a crime  As long as you could afford the balloons strung to that hard paper When things were simpler  Being naive was glorious  You needed not to feel the weight—that of the world But now, like Merlin, you carry it on your shoulders  Is it a blessing or a curse? No answer for that one Everything changed—why? You grew up. By: Sambasy

  Yeah this time remains a mystery He came to me and hugged me And O his hug felt like a refreshing balm to my wounds I thought of every moment I left him behind and sobriety filled my soul Then came the awakening of my journey Every darkness, filled with light So bright it pierced my soul deeply  I began to sync his matters with mine And he directed the uncharted paths that I had willingly treaded upon  I now surrender With humble submission And was given the torch To guide the steps of men The touch that remains burning By: Doting Dion

  O the depth of the riches And wisdom and knowledge  Of God How unsearchable are His judgements  And how inscrutable; His ways For who has known the mind of the Lord? Who has been His counsellor? Who has given a gift to Him That he might be repaid? For from Him Through Him To Him Are all things  To Him be glory forever.  By: Paul

  It's been nine Number so kind Nine of fine memories Memories worth treasuries It's been nine Times so nice Pieces of events Dicy and spicy It's been nine Times so small but fly Days so fast but pass Fleeting moments  And moments that last Pictures so frail but sail deep Actions perfect or imperfect  It's been nine  Nine so fine By: Ever