To the boys finding way

That the thorns spike your feet,

That some days, you drown into emptiness 

of becoming.

Brother, your dream

is never scared of the hills

or the echoing wails of the wave

or the tingling creeping whispers of the night.

Do not be frightened 

of blooming. Sprout like the morning 

rays reaching for new horizon.

Like lovers writing notes 

on a full moon,

string hope to your passion

and let fate catch the bait.

©Adepoju Timileyin O. Juste Ink