I tend to ask, listen and ponder on life whenever am lost in the clouds
What binds me with my siblings and connects me with the garri seller down the street
What makes me different from the beggars at Holy Cross gate
What is life I asked as I passed another lifeless body on the street of despair
Should I feel bad for his condition or be nonchalant cos we not related ?
How do I rate hypocrisy ? Why do I rain curses on my brother for his mistakes and in my time same actions I take
In my sojourns what makes me feel am not connected to the boy selling gala
Or the police man who tries to find a fault so your driver could wet the earth
Amidst my thought am uncertain of what the next minutes holds for me

Stephen Oshiomah Imoyera
Lazy youth with a PEN