Beautiful Childhood

You won't und'stand if you d'nt experience it, My fatherland is where I cut my poetry teeth. 'Tis also the place where I had a splendid childhood, Naija- where we cruise our tyres around the hood; I remember days of Ten- Ten and Sendi, Back when we were innocent and knew no Fendi, When we would play monkey post in the rain, And I was a midfielder whose energy ne'er drain.; Oloje 98 was the world cup I played in, Abdul and co of Okekere knows what Im saying. I, a star in all games with Kume the striker, were so lethal like the venom of a viper; Beautiful times of watching rams fighting At Barakat Ita-Nmo while we chill with Beske biting. Days of when we would go hunting with my gees, Even though we ne'er came home with a geese; And during ramadan we built beautiful mosques, And they were as white as the elephant's tusks. Omo Alfa Alaaya would often be the Imam, Deputied by Abdulmajeed and Imran; 'Was one of those who wakes the 'hood for Sahur, Trying to be a scholar like my uncle Sheikh Sabur. Hunting for kuluso whenever the rain falls, Ofcourse hiding in my closet when lesson teacher calls: Dada was gentle, Mama was strict, And if not for that queen, Nigga would be street. Days of when I would be dragged to ile kewu, Just because I wanna play with Kayode and Gebu; I had no xbox but had Mario and bomberman And had a cute cat but not a dobberman. A star I was, with my BMX bike, Aint nobody riding it if I dont like; It was a beautiful childhood afterall, A mosaic of experiences painted on my wall.