Emmanuel Ayinoko
Biography: Am a poet, musical artist and a writer
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Emmanuel Ayinoko
Monday 28 November 2022

Blessed

Blessing

Sometimes we are blessed, but's it hard to recieve

No don't lie to me, it's not me you"ll decieve

living fake life in the pretext of catching cruise

Well, that your way, it never mine any way

it's in the blood,Yeah, am tryna get paid get money get cash.

take it easy don't be too harsh.

yeah you should know am doing it the right way, i pray things burst my way

pave way, pave way, am a see ya to the world, am not in for competition

am just tryna get paid, and live nice

You call it desperation, but i call it determination

I"m Running my Run, I"m Running for me

Oh bad energies, don't come my way or near my lane.

i live for me and live for real

though i might not have much in this pocket for now

but seeing the sunset and sunrise is a transcedent


all i can say, is that am blessed.




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Emmanuel Ayinoko
Wednesday 9 November 2022

Jungle justice

On his heels with the world after him

 

the world was never in anyway to him nice

but he has to pay the price

 

but is life worth the price

what would be his gain if everything is vain

 

famished but, really wants to be filled

in a while he is set to be ringed about by both men and women, young and old.

 

this circle was bigger than his mothers cooking pot,

he is set naked and then thrown down at a spot,

 

the young, the old and infants, were all given a chance to spit on him,

he is then charged with purloining and rustling

 

And to be tried by the jungle court

he stole my bread, he stole my pot of stew,

 

each person kept pointing fingers at him

but all he kept on pleading was for a second chance

 

he said what he did was spontaenous

he is accused of every theft in the community,

 

even people he never knew accused him, though guilty to some accusations

but what would be the outcome of this meeting

 

his soul could no longer bear the pain

 

he is then sentenced to death, soaked in oil, and a tyre, around his neck,

tears streamed down freely, nonstop

 

his soul could no longer bear the pain, and then fled away leaving the flesh

to a place nobody knows

 

and that was the end of the life of an ordinary child who stole a bread to quench his hunger

was mobbing going to quench the peoples anger?

 

what is worth a soul, a bread or two?



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