What time is it on your side?
Is it morning when you have to toil the soil?
The time to put your best so your cup would run with oil
Or you need a skill in order not to be a foil-
To yourself and to all those who believeth your ploy.
What time is it I say?
Is it noon already, where your struggles begin?
This is where the challenges multiply and turn you to its Inn
Here all temptation arises
So grossed that you can't give analysis.
I tell you that the noon is the most complicated
Where you wonder if you will ever, ever be complimented .
Slightly, you might speak the language of them
That says: "If you can't beat them you join them".
On my side it is evening o'clocked
Where youthful exuberance is being locked
At this point I think I have tried
Now I see more of what life had hide
To me now, all races are vanity
That if you overrun it might end in calamity.
Small, average or large
I reap my work as I am charge!
Na this one be Oga of all the made
The night, where no changes can ever be made.
Either good or bad
Of each deeds I had, had,
Will either come to taunt me or make me smile.
Flashing back into the past
Commending myself if I had passed.