Olabosoye Wemimo Olaoluwa Poet Rhyme

Wems Henry Temmy Psalm 50

Toes are digits that seem not holding
Whenever earthly floor is scolding
The hearts which followed; upholding
The care packaged in rage withholding

Fingers are projected structures so retentive
Of abundant blessings growing in captive 
Frowned at seriously like boost; disincentive
Yet bears the cross in street's style adaptive

Future travel to fro past and present
Yesterday presents me a classic peasant 
Today acknowledge my humble adjustment-
My hands in good morrow: capable agent 

Aim sits quietly at the feet of success
Everyone is laid abreast to h/her guess
While some keep moving in sweet progress,
Few sit up, redress and amazingly repossess

Defeat sings melodiously unto goodbye
When at night; darkness owned greeds deny
The pleasure I've taken to subsequently defy
The little vegetable land infertile soils decry

Luck whispers of chances not taken well
Been through that lane where pains dwell
I kindly erase all agony I suffered without shell
When pissed time surely heal and dispell 

Mercy shines through tunnel of bright vision  
Beyond the seen and accidental collision
Which builds up logical routes I don't envision
Profitably equip me with the best provision

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