LUCY, WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?

Oh yes! Caesars have offered their daughters, but I was never like those busters. Pharaohs have invited me to dine so that a princess would be mine. They would march in nine to twist and whine, but I’ve suspected, marrying an Egyptian isn’t at all my line. So I went to my mother’s town, but instead of finding happiness found a clown. I was deceived in the first place by her modest gown, but later discovered her nudity at dawn; she would be confused if you ask her, what is a noun? What a clown!

Ondo presented a lady too. In the hands of her parents was adored a magnificent baby too. But she was so weird she danced to the ticking of clocks and soundtrack of Mister May-D too. Oh I’m afraid, the future with her could be shady too.

The last year in school almost ran out before I dumped the rules and started to fly out. To every female dormitory I started to shout out, not minding if I would be called a flirt or a foul lout. Babes thought I was only on mouth, or perhaps I’ve had a bottle of stout, but Angels knew what my struggle was all about, and hence showed me the way out. When I finally met Lucy, I saw she was my happiness route, my brother, no doubt.

So the storm is finally over! I found the sweetest fruit better than apple, orange and guava. Without words, her beauty hums louder than woofer, her wit in comparison to the past experiences is tougher, my Lucy is indeed a lover.

Where would you like to go, iyawo mi? Would you abandon WhatsApp and 2go to follow me? I’d love to take you to Chicago or Miami. Now that my dry land is watered, my bread is now buttered. I don’t want Obama’s daughter, it’s obvious that my Lucy is hotter. If my babe was a memory card, one’d need no more data. If she was a loaf, you’d need no butter. If she’s a pie, you’ll need no water. If she’s Hermione Granger, you’d love to be Ron Wesley instead of being the chosen one, Harry Potter.

But hell, I’m still serving the masses! The personality which a good President passes, does not allow pouring Hennessey into glasses. But yes a time will come, when we will both leave the school dorm, and I’ll take you to my mum, in a weather neither cold nor hot but warm, and my sisters will offer you gum as is our norm, and we’ll dance to the beats of Atingisi tom while sharing cups of mead or rum.

Thank God I’m still alive; alone I almost got tired of life. Laughing and crying alone almost killed me as a man. Lucy, come here, hold me, where have you been?

– Lord eBay (and his romantic adventures, 2013)
#eStreetWriters

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