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Poem

Maybe they don't know, my pen
We've been crafting before my age of ten. 
We've been friends for quite a long time
You and Ayinde- Partners in crime;
Together We've written about love and hate,
About true inspirations, and ideas we contemplate. 
Koda, we wrote about life and it's tribulations 
And it's manual that has no stipulations;
We wrote about cool, falling springs
About imaginary eden with roses and swings.
We wrote about the eclipse that just reoccured, 
We're so gifted even Shakespeare concurred;
We did write 'bout an okin from Offaland, 
And only those in the bloopers will understand. 
We wrote about oppression and corruption, 
And about a land of plenty, with no'ing for consumption;
Thousands of poems, performed in the African Hall,
With you and I,  gracing the geography laboratory hall.
We are inseparable my dear bamboo pen,
Who made me an oracle amongst men.

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