So you have to accept someone else’s concerns
If you still care to go abroad
Are you corrupt, do you get the returns
Do you hide them as an experienced fraud
What they call a survey is an interrogation
There is no presumption of innocence
You are pledged guilty because your nation
Is all badly spoken which shortens the chance
To get anywhere you would want to fly
Because you, and not somebody else, just you
Must stop the war, so they'll decide
If you’re worthy to taste their national stew
Isn’t it quieter to take a bus ride
At home, with no worries about bank statements
About who are your parents, dead or alive
The driver won’t bother about their status
None of that humiliation is guaranteed
But isn’t it too clever that people get stressed
For intention to travel abroad, when they need
Just a fortnight break for a much deserved rest?
Abroad got jobs I hear,
Abroad got cash too I hear,
But getting there is a hustle.
And staying there is a hustle.
I need to get there
Before the bridge is cut.
I will study hard to win a scholarship,
I promised myself earlier,
Then final exams arrived
And I fail to excel
So that bridge collapses
Maybe I look for jobs overseas,
Then I am flown as a labourer,
Then I find agents for male workers,
They charge a nightmare.
I don’t have the cash they demand,
And that bridge breaks down.
Do I have any other option,
Maybe I go as a refugee.
But my country is peaceful,
It’s unfair to pretend
And deny real beneficiaries their chance.
Again, I close this bridge.
Now I will marry a white woman,
And secure a place as husband.
But the law abroad is harsh
For a cultural African man.
Will I bow to my woman as said?
Again, this bridge is shaky.
Or, I win a green card,
Again, this is always on luck,
What if I am not the lucky one?
Will I raise the fees after the green card?
This seems a more unstable bridge.
It is not cheap or easy to get there.
Either way I need to get there.
I just need a piece of advice
A little piece of your mind.
I don't lament
Rather I feel pleased
Learning from one new things
While leaving the task I know well
Brain once occupied by theories, question and researches
Converted into beautiful way of cleaning
Natures and environment
Welcoming every season with calm and compuser
I now get idea which month trees loose leaves and branches in UK
AC to Adlerian psychology
We are responsible for our life
So I think I choose this work myself
Sometimes ranting and raving emotion flows
I quivered myself inside duvet
My heart says don't lament as this job contains best payment
Taking the trolley from east to west
Cleaning heart of king cross
Granary square is the best
With lots of fountain and children park
Well by career shifting it feels pain
But this changes welcome
whole ways of viewing things
I am grateful to god what I get
The melody of memory is farming a low note,
drawing out the sonorous tones of your voice on the phone.
‘Hello.’ Have I always been this nostalgic for warmth?
I’m a broad who’s abroad
And I’m traveling toward
Where my tour will be moored
For the night.
Every view has me floored
And what can’t be ignored
Is that what I’ve adored,
Each new sight,
In my brain will be stored
So that when I am bored
I’ll recall what I’ve scored
With delight.
They brought us 20 dollars
so we could live better
we spent 100
on feeding them
The best moment
When you heard appreciation
With your boss and see their happiness
But it's a saddest moment
Deep inside thinking of your children
And hoping you can cook for them too
Hoping that you make them happy
As you did for them
Of course there's always be a reason
That you’re doing it for them
Working a thousand miles away
Will not affect your relationship
And closeness with your boss while you're working.
My heart is happy
A letter came from abroad
From a name Pappy.
There is rumour..Speculation? that old clause
Has left this station..? And an earthly king is sickening
Is there poision.? Or just nothing? the world stage plays
Seem deserted?? Are their fortunes being introverted?
How about gatesy? Heard of him lately.?? Is scoros on
The way out.?? I'll like to beleive.' I'td be one good shout!
Are they picking off the gallery? Of devils spawn? Could
That be.? Well some are over eighty.' Trudeau won't get
Back again to fifty.' We know death is
Not a maybe.! God (will call in every sinner) for in hell
They'll not be winners.!!
Entrepreneurship
Businesses abroad
A family legacy
Children are called.
Real Estate, Restaurants
Commercial Investing, stores
Employees in the thousands
Much more.
Growth, Faith, a vision is planned.
New, coming soon in this beautiful land.
I feel cut off
from the world I wish
to reside in.
No walks
in the park with my sister
discussing literature
and men. No romanticism
from my mother.
The books my father read
were standard American
true crime.
I say not
Hogmanay, but when
I'm here, I imagine
walking like the others
with their fathers
or their brothers.
Does warmth
measured out
by greater transience
collect and spill?
Will my sister
understand?
I'll see her
at Christmas, a month
of my every year
for this crime
of existence.
Will love
grow warmer
as I'm missing him?
I think so.
I'm resilient.
I'll adjust.
I'm giving in.
My 20-year-old-son told me
he had chosen a new 'Study Abroad' program for next semester
He left me wondering ~
What was wrong with the broad he'd been studying this past semester?
(Groaning yet?)
The half moon shimmered wanly as she wrote
“Dearest, do you realize how much I miss you?
How long will your trip abroad take?
Here I am in empty rich, luxury mansion.
A hovel with you would have been better.
Or perhaps you do not love me anymore?”
Thus the letter arrived in my posh Rome hotel.
I could not help but let a lonely tear drop down
And smudge the words written there.
Why can’t I find the courage to write a full letter?
Only fragments have I written, not worth sending.
The show goes on and all around me were the so-called friends.
Yet I have none, absolutely none. One day I’ll disappear,
Leave Rome and go back to my home sweet home.
Dreams run wild
Can reach outside your home
Your view and your heart
Anything outside your home
May be full of expectations
And possibilities
Anything not in view
May be full of hopes
Anything outside your heart
May be more heartening
So you travel with your dreams
And your knapsack on your back
One day you may be back home
With extra happiness
Or with extra sadness
Of course no more dreams
You're back home once more
Once more you're your own self
Dreams abroad are always
For the young guys
But a home is always a dream land
For the oldies
Ruling out the old folks home
You will gradually understand
So, please hurry back home love
"They" miss you so
I saw a boy lost between worries and screams
His Thoughts running like water in streams
Said home he had Cupboards full of dreams
He sighed and said in loneliness I have always cried
I wondered why, I asked why.
He said he grew alone meeting his dad once a year
He said I met him 5 to 6 times in my teen
He promised every time to bring me things I never ha e seen
I wanted to stop him home and tell him I am not keen
Living abroad was his way to bring us up
Living abroad leaving the present for a future unknown.
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