2025

And, this voice says to me all the time "Be patient" I wish to stand firm on the line, But all my efforts seem difficult to align. "Eh go beta, just dey grind" all these voices at the back of my mind. I hear echoes of pressure from floors to walls, my calculative faculty tired of flaws and laws, Now it's december 2025 I'd say 2025 is a stage, built with tears and laughter, plastered with losses and triumph, I'd call it a classroom without a teacher or a chair, just an empty hall that echoes pressure into my ears. Each day came with different motive, Each day moved in different motions, and each day taught different lessons. I'd call it a journey from January to destiny, From January to misery, weaving through success. Now it's december, the final bus stop to alight and make a mockery of each trial that crossed our path, The final bus stop to alight and applaud my efforts, for though it is the end of the year, but not the end of my life.