Ifedolapo Ogunniyi

As I stride through life, change’s fire ignites,
Weakness transforms, yielding strength’s pure might.
Welcoming the shift, old fears are slain,
For in the dance of change, true power reigns.

Like the steadfast oak, amidst storms that rage,
I stand firm, unwavering, on the shifting stage.
Adapting, evolving, with each dawn’s rise,
In the crucible of change, greatness lies.

No challenge too daunting, no peak too high,
With each step forward, strength does amplify.
In the heart of chaos, find serene calm,
Emerging unscathed, steadfast as a psalm.

Listen, dear friend, to change’s clarion call,
Give warm hugs to its rhythm, let your spirit enthrall.
In the winds of change, spread your wings and soar,
Above doubts and fears, forevermore.

Strength is born in the womb of transformation’s hold,
In its crucible, our true selves unfold.
Fear not the unknown, with courage, abide,
For in the embrace of change, true strength resides.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2024

In Soweto’s warmth, love found its home,
A cacophony of tradition, barriers to roam.
She, my heart’s compass, in passion’s prime,
Her memory dances through the corridors of time.

Years may pass, but her essence remains,
In every heartbeat, in life’s refrains.
Bound by customs, a love so true,
Yet tradition stood tall, a formidable view.

Soweto’s streets witnessed our tender grace,
But norms and rules held us in their embrace.
She, a beacon of light in shadowed nights,
Forever etched in my soul’s delight.

Her laughter echoes in the winds that blow,
A love forbidden, yet it continues to glow.
Memories linger, a bittersweet blend,
Of a love that transcends what customs defend.

In solitude, I dwell on moments divine,
Her essence, a melody in my heart’s design.
Soweto love, a treasure untold,
A story of passion, tradition’s stronghold.

© Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2024

Clearly written in capital letters,
With weary hands and tired feet,
I watched you struggle for breath,
Moving, almost crawling, towards the board,
While others raced ahead without a care,
Your pace slow, like a snail’s,
You collapsed onto the floor.

The Handwriting

You reached out with your last strength,
A belch escaping as your hands shook,
Grasping for the emptiness before you.

The Handwriting

In a world full of busy men,
And women chasing after money,
You were trampled upon,
Forgotten by those too busy to care,
No one took notice,
Everyone just working away,
No one bothering to look up.

The Handwriting

Faintly etched in capital letters,
You wrote with all your remaining strength,
As I rushed to your aid, stumbling,
Encountering countless obstacles,
Bumping into people along the way.

Breathlessly, I ran, desperate to help,
But as I arrived, the pen slipped from your grasp,
I was too late,
And as I read your final plea,
Tears streamed down my face.

You had written, “HELP!”

(c) Ifedolapo Ogunniyi
2024