Am calling out the street
The voice of our dreams
You have brought fear to my cabin
Now am scared of my skin
Am searching for the brae
That made us perturbed
Even to our deaths,
Still they showed us an open arm
Ready to drain our joy
Till we could cry no more
Am singing for the giants
Our soldiers in the scene
Carrying weapons meant to kill
But end sucking away each others dream
Leaving us to sing and weep
Am kneeling to the cross
Who sat down and promised us peace
It has never been the same
Since you sat on their sit
You hid your face in our skirts
And garnished your garments
With our silk,
Yet we alone were meant to hug . disease
I pledge my allegiance to the flag
The peace we were meant to keep
Well its not that am weak
But I choose to sleep with my defeat.
My pen might be weak
But won't run out of ink.
©Oluku Emomotimi Sunday ( OES )

Nice poem ...
ReplyDeleteDeep....
ReplyDelete