Pa Mathew Ogundeji, adieu
His smile is rough, but it is beautiful
There are ravines in his running face
His heartbeats are gone; it is not of fun
Hurrying till his lungs can't hold it for long
He lived just a wife, he had his shared with knife
The decades not even with eight and a seven
There is a matter to clean, such is no bean
And he always crack jokes with his folks
He is a wise old boy, he's always fun to toy
Likes to hear him sing of his ring
Remembering how he met her and say wow
Till they fell, he couldn't help tell
Of how wonder hard is it to ponder
How hard it is for youth to find Ruth
Boy will be mad wanting again to feel the joy
Though rough but he rides well with the tough
With passion to follow and pride to stoop low
For dream to let him swim in love's stream
Reaching high for lust at pit to the nigh
On the street's call, false trust never fall
After one short week, she went weak
Till death pierce her heart, they go apart
Then the next 8 months, her tears on seventh hill
Leaving her an art of his memorable thorned heart
Lost a while in tears, so hard for her to smile
She wore her face well without trace
Hurt but an old young lady do unfold
The good old days of his darling says
Speaking of his truth and her own sleuth
Sparked bravery in her darling young slavery
Making her blood boil but couldn't soil
To unearth the truth behind death
Cold bitter down stair, she couldn't cover her hair
The hard ice melt, yet couldn't felt its cold
Her heart burned that he shall returned not
True love was the dove in her eyes
She thought its forever and grew up fever
Like the first day making up her breast
A fancy watch out of a stylish notch
That his corpse became her warps
Her whole life in line, pretending to be fine
Dream and echoes murmured painful buzzword
Cursing birth day for raging peaceful death
That was actually driving her insane and stir
Wandering hopelessly in the open heaven
Of holy soul clamouring for resting hole
Having ere the stress last one year of distress
Remembering none to count for fun
But then, at twenty-seven, he comes uneven
And decides to give peace and live his best
Like a fixed well, he ran out of hell
Having a sustainable fountain climbing mountain
Passing through life scoping true test
Everyone then know how hard it was in a den
The old pokes kind of yolks blinking
He couldn't help how life begins yelp
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