HANG OUT LIFE
As the tadpoles hangout with the floating cork; so many lives.
Hoping to develop into desires dreams.
Each stage of existence, lives find place to hangout.
Some hangout in bus stations, drinking bars, night clubs and under trees.
As the flies hangout with the cattle’s ear; hopping to remain a parasite.
So, many people hangout in cities; wasting away without knowing.
Hanging out at night; is waiting for sudden bad medical reports.
Hanging out with bad friends; is showing yourself ways to destruction and death.
Uncountable souls are down like ship; influence of hangout made me sorrowful.
Bending down to see hope of lives of hangout, I saw hopeless, wasted, unrepented faces
In the places where they are; music of pleasure sounds fleshing but;
Punches of sorry contours their faces.
Waving my hands; of goodbye to hangout life,
Cost me tears that never intended to cry.
Many hangout in bad places; standing as trees with green leaves, but flourish not.
The promises of future gradually moving into a mirage.
The stones hangsout with the waters,
The waters dried, the stones are left with the beaten of the sun and cracked.
Who can tell the next victim of hangout life?
The ears hangsout with the head; until the head cut off,
As waste as the head; and as waste as the ears
So lives of hangout.
Pastor Emmanuel Brown Omojevwe