Strike or Strive

A few days into summer, he sorts for his grandmother's toolbox,

He scrambled all around, in search of 'Òwú and Abéré',

Like the speed of lightning, all his tears were repaired,

And carried his favorite tools and equipment of assurance.

In a hunt for conceptual conquest,

he dashed unto the shore;

In hope for a tomorrow propelled by nostalgia,

On a garden of thorny roses, he walked bare.

Stuck with a boat with no paddles,

Under the cloud of clouted blues;

Rounded by whales of shadowy despair,

Frightened by the raging storm, with lightning striking the ocean.

But there came a voice that averted his cognitive awareness:

'If I were you, I'll give a verdict of peace that troubles my struggles.

One whose shoes will resonate 'Ko-ko-kà', must tie his soul to his sole.'

Then he fell into deep pondering.

'So build confidence, develop hope, and uphold faith,

As one decision can determine a lifetime.

"A stitch in time," They say, "saves nine"

Now's a chance to Strike or Strive, as a wait could be bait.'