THE BUSY ROADS (for career choice)- by Olaniyi Abdulwaheed

  I

Some, very busy Roads, glitter on the path of cheers

Tiled with counsels and visions, dreams

In the influx of ante- step to the gristle of goals

Grasp with emotion, passion without discretion

There on the Roads, the busy road, dreams

Of masquerading

Mirage and sight

The busy Roads are worshipped

Like god with no grimace of gristle or goggle at glum:

At dusk and dawn, sojourners travel with flight.

So the busy Roads take shoulder high in the sky

There must be no flaw of the speeding vision

Lest the sky falls and the earth tears to tear its tears

There must be travelers

There must be sojourners

Even with vision of no missions,

There must be trippers

On the busy Roads

Trippers of these busy Roads

Are not only those who trek on the heart of the future,

Those, whose goals seethe, also hire the bus of the busy Roads

While the amorphous mission wanders before stipend of the pouch

Still, strife thrives to glow in the sky

Still, the sky pouched for some

Till the vigor of their goals broke.

There must be travelers

There must be sojourners

Even with vision of no missions,

There must be trippers

On the busy Roads

Not only strife that thrives in the busy Roads, last,

Not only mission, being pouched, die after its death

Some missions live after death

Some visions die while alive.

Only flowers irrigated in arid land

Banished grave from desert  

There must be travelers

There must be sojourners

Even with vision of no missions,

There must be trippers

On the busy Roads

These Roads are straight without ribs that cross its path

These Roads are slippery

Easy to fall and rise

            II

but some other roads I know

roads that have no sight to walk by sojourners

roads that built it tracks with legions of labyrinths

difficult to trek, easy not to slip

the less busy roads I know,

dark as charcoal, buried, in the throes of the night.

the roads with flowing  garment of mockery

covers its dreams with ribs

its visions are hidden in the belly of time,

but if slippery tongues sucks on its,

it cannot last on palate for minutes,

unlike the busy Roads.

dark roads never worn long trousers

knickers segued on its hips

like ballet dancers on the stage of future concerto

to coax moments of chuckles in its chicks

the need to trek the roads

is the moment for pains and gains

yet,

 There must be roads

There must be roads

There must be roads

Where the morsel can travel

Roads with pains for gain.

These roads are laced with woods and gold

Silver and diamond

Only the brave hearts can trek the path

With coaxing moment of no doubt.