Written by: Afolabi Taiwo

 Overflowing like the sparkling spring from acerbity,
 The emerald stones on the relieve peak
 Causing welling up like stormy waves,
 And breath taking halt, grunting
 Roar as the thundering drums reverberating;
 The window pout unfold a feature 
 As when open wide,
 Spoilt by the joyful loudness of croaking;
 Grief lips drawn taut 
 Drop spreading flow,
 Drop to wash the ripe Apple cheeky, drop 
 And meandering through grooves and porous ream
 Obstacles of pendants and pillars;
 Conclusively arrived, making the jugular waterfall,
 Cascading into sea of tears.
 True, men do not weep
 That bespeaks Hercules vaunting ego, 
 But, I thank you sir,
 Often they sob now or before
 Not for unfaithful heart breaks
 For loves aplenty,
 Not often loves for not excusing
 In passing by to greater beyond,
 But on lucrative dear deal that sore gone,
 On capital fretted away 
 On good look in,
 But crash without remorseful pity
 The masculine effeminately swim in river of tears.
 Strokes of wipes to back from savage master
 The oppressive bully to hapless youth,  
 Which draws livid reddish lines picture
 And rabid yell of agony on twisted mouth,
 When puerile little lad yelp
 Could be for appeasing breast
 But, definitely not for help,
 Could lustfully be warmth of mama’s arms,
 Things we’re n't aware but peradventure leg to arms
 Or nothing, whichever way, 
 Their stubborn screaming suggest
 Ways of impuissant expressing unanswered request.
Tears of gladness 
 Moved to elevating joy,
 To see again long time lost love,
 Surely for ages and time agone
 Surprising hugs with all kisses,
 Dearest who aforethought cross beyond
 But now you are prospering.