At 18, I've lost my sleep for games
And gave my fame to stupid nicknames
Thinking my jinks could get well so soon
Tried thousand stunts to prove my goon
And now the way to scold is to say I'm twenty
Or I need to hold a girl's hand to show maturity
Cause none of my siblings is taking me as wise
That maybe I don't listen to your simple advice
Or i do forgets where in the room I lay my comb
Yet mom started this since i was in her womb
The same goes, same old methods she taught me
Still i can't lose out my legs from trousers free
Nor hangs my caps and socks where they fit
Still i make a noise when I listen to new hits
Still I don't understand some board's cue
Still I can't paint nor cream the green blue
I've got a large brain and a good empty sense
Reading books but can't make a perfect tense
I am turning forty soon, maybe i'll get the fun
To be sure of things before i should take the run.
Adebayo Sir Toby
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 11/21/2020
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