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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.  
Written by
Pastor Emmanuel Brown Omojevwe

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