Last saturday,
I passed through campus,
Amused,
By my foolishness.

Reminiscing,
On relationships,
That stood,
on broomsticks

Lofty dreams,
Strung with cobwebs,
Where reality,
is scene of my fiction.

Clothes mattered,
Phones, status symbols
Trying to impress
With money not earned.

The alcohol, and smoke
Behind closed doors,
Where only the walls
Understand our language.

The girls who took,
Looks over books
The guys who took,
Boobs over cooks.

But our calabash of dreams
fetch not of reality's streams
Flowing from life's hills
Outside our campus gates