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Ofem Ubi
Ofem Ubi


When I count my wins, my art multiplies,

I count my self lucky, numbered as a refugee,

My Art, Refuge, became skolombo,

Self esteem, Replacement, became homebred,

For the voice that wants to be heard and the tears that wants to be wiped,

I was turned an amplified kerchief,

Spokesman for many:

men, gods and God, but me?

Jigsaw job doesn't bloat me with pay or paybacks,

I feel things that aren't my emotions,

Numby, humbly,

I'm lowered to living more human,

I'm raised to moving more aware, undead,

another conscientious conscience in our conversations,

To listen more, I beat my self up when I speak more,

I'm not so important,

Ears arc to hear the sobs between the words of those by me,

But it's not that bad, but it's not so good either,

It's a complicated fight to be nosy yet concerned...