Miss her:
Even as I stand here trying to say
this....
I can't stop the tendency in its immensity to
reminisce.... reminisce
All the good times and good things
am about to miss....
Like your lips, soft skin your eyes,
your kiss.....
You see this girl was like unlike any other....
placed in my position, some of you
could deny your mother.....
But before I go any further....
Let me introduce myself.
My name is Bahati....
Olusi i have swagg...
Olusi nina amachati....kakati...
Let me tell you about my love long story...
Some of you may find it boring , but am sorry...
Now as i continue...
with the issue...
That brought us all to this wonderful venue.....
12am, walking down to the lounge at barbecue....
Never knew...never had a single clue...
That, that night i would bump into someone as fine as you....
Better still never knew, ..... never had a single clue...
that in a few months, maybe three maybe two....
I'll be calling someone as fine as you, .... My boo....
So as we danced the night away....
Ever so indulged in our little child's play....
And as we swayed from side to side....
Often you getting a bit shy, you had to hide...
At that point my heart was racing, about to go into a coma......
Onlookers wondering, thinking,
saying.....
"Oyo omwana yasoma....."
Did i happen to mention to you how much i miss her....
My love, my lady Anisha...
But you see, It was all a case of huff and puff....
Coz later i realized her love for me'
was just a bluff.....
It made me wonder whether...
My love wasn't enough...
My time wasn't enough...
Or just maybe, my money wasn't enough.....
Shall we ever understand this crazy love stuff...
Shall we ever comprehend.....
The sadistic blend....
Between love and hate...
That we human beings constantly create...
But then again, I guess this is our fate...Then it hit me...
I don't miss her..
Don't you dare mention that name again, Anisha...
Now am here trying to cope, trying to remain...
A bit sane...
trying to forget Anisha, the source of my pain.
This poem was written by Mark Bahati a friend of mine, very talented yet so humble.He inspires me in so many ways and I learn a lot from him, even if he doesn't know it yet. Anyways catch him at #kwivuga 8pm every last Thursday of the month, doing his thing at Gattomatto.
Even as I stand here trying to say
this....
I can't stop the tendency in its immensity to
reminisce.... reminisce
All the good times and good things
am about to miss....
Like your lips, soft skin your eyes,
your kiss.....
You see this girl was like unlike any other....
placed in my position, some of you
could deny your mother.....
But before I go any further....
Let me introduce myself.
My name is Bahati....
Olusi i have swagg...
Olusi nina amachati....kakati...
Let me tell you about my love long story...
Some of you may find it boring , but am sorry...
Now as i continue...
with the issue...
That brought us all to this wonderful venue.....
12am, walking down to the lounge at barbecue....
Never knew...never had a single clue...
That, that night i would bump into someone as fine as you....
Better still never knew, ..... never had a single clue...
that in a few months, maybe three maybe two....
I'll be calling someone as fine as you, .... My boo....
So as we danced the night away....
Ever so indulged in our little child's play....
And as we swayed from side to side....
Often you getting a bit shy, you had to hide...
At that point my heart was racing, about to go into a coma......
Onlookers wondering, thinking,
saying.....
"Oyo omwana yasoma....."
Did i happen to mention to you how much i miss her....
My love, my lady Anisha...
But you see, It was all a case of huff and puff....
Coz later i realized her love for me'
was just a bluff.....
It made me wonder whether...
My love wasn't enough...
My time wasn't enough...
Or just maybe, my money wasn't enough.....
Shall we ever understand this crazy love stuff...
Shall we ever comprehend.....
The sadistic blend....
Between love and hate...
That we human beings constantly create...
But then again, I guess this is our fate...Then it hit me...
I don't miss her..
Don't you dare mention that name again, Anisha...
Now am here trying to cope, trying to remain...
A bit sane...
trying to forget Anisha, the source of my pain.
This poem was written by Mark Bahati a friend of mine, very talented yet so humble.He inspires me in so many ways and I learn a lot from him, even if he doesn't know it yet. Anyways catch him at #kwivuga 8pm every last Thursday of the month, doing his thing at Gattomatto.
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