Future

The aroma of a ripe pineapple that once smelled so good,

Now has the smell of a rotten egg,

Everything is turning to the bad and none to the good,

The behind has been good and the days ahead ablaze.

Now stopping in the middle of time,

Do we turn back to enjoy the good old days?

To chase the dragon flies and lizards again,

To build sand castles and play akpamkoro once again.

But the past is walled without a gate,

And the walls of the past are advancing,

It pushes us into the flaming future,

Oh! The ecstasy of being a baby.

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