A Cry In The Wilderness Poem by Ojedokun Olajide

Hear my cry,
My cry,
The cry of a poet
The unseen instinct of my inner self
Brought about by the propelling force of mixed emotions
Hear my cry

My cry goes to the streets,
The highways and freeways speaking for that child
Being abused by circumstance
Hawking their lives down the drain
Hear my cry

My cry, a hope for the graduates
Who after sailing through with the boat of perseverance
Wander helplessly around
With document-filled brown bags
Yet with the same stories of yesterday to tell
Hear my cry

My cry tramps to the leaders
Who prostrating, pledge and promise
But forget all after being sworn in
Leaving the poor masses to their fate
Hear my cry

My cry goes to the prostitutes
Who for a mess of porridge
Sell off their precious beings
To the shameless buyers
Hear my cry

My cry comes from the endless pit
Comes from the aborted children
Piercing through the hearts of their wicked mothers
Who out of shame, perhaps,
Ignorance, wash out the leaders-to-be
Hear my cry

My cry is the voice of that woman
Whose husband molests and beats
The agony of the mother
Driven out of her matrimonial home
Hear my cry

My cry, a voice of all
A voice of the good,
The bad,
And the ugly
Hear my cry

My cry, unto the females
Who for marks and promotions
Lay flat on their backs
To be trodden upon like horses
By graceless bosses
Hear my cry

My cry, from the cadavers
Cadavers with ‘consecrated' bones
Hermetically sealed in death
Seeking for revenge
On their early-grave-senders
Hear my cry

My cry is that lady
Who ties the knot today
And tomorrow, is out on the streets
For no just reason
Than a closed womb
Hear my cry

My cry from generations to come
Sweeps through this world
Warning and advising
Seeking for a change
A change for better days
Hear my cry

Listen to my prostrate cry,
O pedestrians and motorists
And let me know,
Let me know why
Why the good ones croak* early
And the evil ones, they age?

(* a slang meaning to die)