Josh Berry World

Almajiri The death of her cry gave life to the child: Twas a male - a culprit of life. If he was to be the opposite, Alhaji would give his sweat and sights, To cite her as reference to wealth and care. But he's a male: Rough skinned, pale lips with hard scale. And Alhaji threw him into the street, To commune with dusts, dirt: his eternal seat. Decades with voluptuous lips spoke, Shekaoh in alms-begging did grow. Then, Tambuwal: A noble sheriff, Organized a cunny-stuffed speech, To disorganize the orientation, Of those youth without defined vision. He'd said: "I shall give to whom is willing, A million for a bold step: Any one who shall gird himself in this balls, Shall score sundry goals and win 7 virgins" And that was Shekaoh's dilemma: 'Bomb a group of people and Win a million for family and voluptuous virgins, Or continue in this act and die bedridden. If to soothe Allah I'll do. Tambuwal, I shall blow the group " And Sh...

In a flash, She swift along the path of life. Giving no eye to any seeming trash. In a struggle for destruction-like life. 'Are you going my way? ' She picks up a passanger and a passanger picks her up. She smiles hard imprisoning the affection of her prey, And gives signals to the conductor with her sensitive make up. In a trash, She refills the tank of her curiosity. Driving her prey harshly like a starch, She squeeze luxury out of her folly. After the match, She re-dresses and picks her way without delay. 'Where is my money? ' the conductor speak out harsh. Being satisfied, she directs her steps to resume the usual relay. After the search, She head back to her source. With smiles written all over her countenance, She put off her fake colour like torch. She flashes back the preceeded events, It seems her tyre are now pumply flat. Her overuse rim decides to relent, Which murders her hope of tomorrow's contract.      She parks herself still o...