'Struggle Bus' by Babalola Israel A
STRUGGLE BUS
The path of life
Seems straight and cute
Contain uneven and rough path
Found failure in rough-and-tumble street
Leaping and famous in agony; last struggle.
The days fly faster than a weaver's shuttle
Ending with no hope to survive
Only in a life we exist once
When thou vanishes like cloud
And return no more and never to be seen again
When the breath is gone forever.
The path of life
Examines us in the morning and test us in the night
Having no space to succeed
As we journey on thread of life everyday
How then shall we not inhale untimely death?
Sick life!
Life is sick
How then can we escape the sickness?
Should we say, life is drunk and senseless?
For thou treat our path with unfairness and sickish
With the still calm voice of struggle and sorrow.
Who then shall survive the struggle?
Who then shall escape the sickness?
Who then shall triumph sorrow?
A faint less man that pin is hope above
That look in the mirror, and always be true
Never relent, never cry
Start again and keep trying
Mistake and error never mean dry-handed
Take your time and brush your teeth
To enjoy the sweetness that comes tomorrow.
Babalola Israel A
EazyPoet
Photo Credit: Olushotit
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