Our Little Old Childhood Friends.
They are casing dreams
They are travelling places
They are all doing the best for themselves
Some are teachers, some are doctors...
Our little old friends
Those we grew up with,
Those who saw us when we were young
The very once who had education with us,
The very ones we played with
And those who drunk from the same cup with us
Those who play in the mud with us.
When we cast our eyes around,
they are all not with us.
But our minds can recollect.
Our eyes can flashback the very moments we shared.
We fought, we laughed together, we ate together.
In these of our moments we shared,
we were all dedicated in our playful times
Everybody played his or her role as expected
Some became young mothers and fathers in our playful scenes.
They were our all in all
And they made the fun.
We went to the refuse dump with them
To get milo tins and ideal tins to make tin cars.
They were beautiful craft boys and girls
We could run throughout the whole town with the cars.
To those who thought were were young and naive, we made them know we were very happy and enjoy what we do.
They were the same friends we bathed naked in the rains with.
They were the ones we made dirty with.
We made paper kite with them,
We made our own house and own music with them.
We stole salt, meat, cassava pieces from our mothers' kitchen to make our own meals in tins.
And when mummy starts to beat us, they turn to make fun of us.
I recall the very old friends in KG 1 and 2 and in my elementary classes
We fought for seats and sitting places
And in few seconds, reconcile and be friends again.
Those who stole our books and pens,
Those that we fought for positions with,
Those who scored low marks and were canned,
Those who stood at the same assembly grounds with us and sang "John bull is my name" .
I remember the dirty boys who were so dedicated in our football matches.
Those we travelled far to plug mangoes and pears with.
Those who were seen in Sunday schools
And those who could and couldn't memorize Bible quotations.
On Xmas festivities,
Such memories I can't forgo
The very friends we had,
who could travel long with us to take Christmas presents from relatives.
Oh! I miss them all
I wish these memories come back again
All these memorable years are gone.
For I do not enjoy the football I enjoyed with them again.
Some at abroad, some far from home and a few dead.
So when I recollect these memories,
I wish I were young again.
Those days when we were young and innocent, oh how i miss those days
Sure. Thanks for your visit
Very nice poem
Thanks bro