JENNIE IFEATU

Souls tucked in sacks  So went the lot of hearts dressed in flesh  When their hearts stopped  When hands like claws  The look alike of McAnthony tore away their aortas  So went the stories of men who their hearts froze  Abominable sights  Waved like Indian hand fans across faces  Pleas upon pleas  Deafness became the sound that the world knew  So their hearts froze  That's the story of the man whose heart froze  Eyes blinded by its own tears  I saw it scribbled in a book  It read injustice  So what is left in justice? Under rocks  Depths of seas  It was sought  So went the story of the man whose heart froze  Washed away  It travelled the depths of seas  Only to be spotted in the antics  Where its blood was coagulated  Into an unfamiliar lump  So went the story of the man whose heart froze 

Take it from me, social media marketing is the best marketing strategy that the world has ever seen. And investing in social media marketing is no longer an option as it has become the new industry standards for connecting with a target audience and building brands. Social media has also given consumers so much power such that they can now turn to platforms like Facebook to view ratings, read reviews, comments from real clients and more. And learning how to professionally handle reviews and negative comments is important as it can push away potential customers, and at worst case, can cause damaging effects to a company’s brand image. In this article, you are going to learn how to correctly manage negative reviews and use them to win more customers. Let me start by sharing what happened to me last week. So a lady reacted to my Instagram posts with contradiction. She didn’t stop there, she entered my DM for the first time to rant about something she doesn'

Blood is the river that flows Stabs after stabs From filial swords Shots after shots From our supposed protector's guns Tears is the stream in which we drown Bellies empty While our fathers sing Humpty-dumpty sat on the wall The very ground that swallowed our umbilical cords despise us So we run From you, from them, from us To lands green seeking the gold rush We once had gold but it's now covered in rust Maybe we should head to the mountains To get closer to the clouds To yell in it's ears And ask; Whose ewe did we steal? Which god's sacrifice have we mortals eaten? That has rendered us countless times by vipers bitten That has made our lives less in value against cattle or perhaps beetles Whose sacrifice have we eaten?

I had once needed to use my friend's convenience and in there she had two mirrors hanging on the wall in opposite directions. One right above the wash hand basin and one behind. I thought of it as being a funny sight. I stepped out, pulling up my zipper. "Babes, do you intend converting your bathroom to a barbing saloon?" "What?" She asked trying to understand the underlying reason for my question. Suddenly, she grasped where my sense of humour was driving at. She sighed. " I pray you receive the sense to be serious real quick" We laughed hard for a while then my mind wandered. It is common to walk into a barbing saloon and find mirrors hung in opposite directions to enable the customer getting a haircut to see the frontal and back view. This was what prompted my question. In life, as good as we might be, we would need two mirrors from time to time. These are not literal mirrors. It is only the assessment of yourself through your eyes a

I learnt the power in the word 'Feminine ' At the age of nine My lips have tasted weakness It has the taste of sour grapes Leaving even men like beings devoid of scrotal sacs If hell lived in humans It would pitch its tent in the navel of the soul Where battered souls whimper Yet it's sound effect is as calm as a body of water Your soul was a house with many windows Peering through them filled my intestines with masticated food My body failing me as I fell weightless like a metal pin I ate of the meal you did not feed me Lump after lump of sorrow and pain Hoping it will take away the rush of tears in your veins I stirred the inferno with my foot Not minding that I 'd see the scar For every scar A lesson learnt For every whimper I gained another strand of strength