My wits keeps wondering, if the sun rises from the east. 

Stalled I was wen it came prerequisite. 


Now I ask you!!!

Is it a must you inject?

Is it a must u put on the cloth of the dead?

Is it a must you dine and whine in an eviscerating room?


Gifts, reflect you

Your pen keeps crying upon a Tue floor in potpourri


Dear, never be pessimism

Future lights above the sky

Sparking off an arising horizon 

glittering like the glory of the true first son. 

Always av your 4th among the fourths


Priceless gold in the middle of the sea..

lets see who gets it... 

Their

My postremogeniture


©Toheeb Raji