Okero

In a town where dreams were young and bold,

Lived a man named Okero, weathered and old.

His hands, calloused, told stories of toil,

Yet his heart yearned for more beneath the soil.

Each dawn he'd rise, with the sun's tender kiss,

To earn his bread, not one moment to miss.

Wages, he thought, would bring him the peace,

But his soul longed for a wealth that wouldn't cease.

One day, a whisper of wisdom he'd hear,

Profits, they said, could make everything clear.

With newfound hope, Okero's spirit took flight,

In the world of commerce, he'd find his light.

Through trials and errors, he ventured afar,

His determination brighter than the farthest star.

Through sweat and tears, he built his own stage,

Proving to himself that profits outshine wage.

In the thrill of success, he found his true worth,

Amidst the market's chaos, he'd unearth

A treasure more valuable than he'd known,

Profits that blossomed, like seeds fully sown.

With each passing day, he learned to rejoice,

For profits brought freedom, a sweet-sounding voice.

From the confines of labor, he broke free and soared,

Into a world where Okero's dreams were adored.