Coming Of Age Poem by Ikechukwu Ogbuike

Coming Of Age



This is a sample copy of a letter that was written to our President by a small boy and her sister.

Dear Sir,
I want to appeal to you sir to come to the aid of my family before it's too late.
There has been a consistent abuse that has been directed at my mother and little sister by no less a person than my father.
I have tried severally in the past to stop him but he is way too big for me.
It is not just the battering that bothers me, but recently I have noticed a strange light in his eyes which tells me that there is something sinister lurking his mind.
I do not want to contemplate what it is but I am in dread of what the outcome might be. It is my fear that I would be forever damned as a result of what I might do that I have this great urge to seek your immediate intervention.
Please come to the aid o my family before it is too late.
Sincerely yours,
Sammie.

Some grow up by dying
The death that does not come at once
But gathers rage like a storm...
Creeping up on travelers, you and me like
Water leaking from a faucet.
It starts as a trickle that turns to a deluge
Guess what! We are always too tired to listen to that weather forecast.

Have you ever been denied of an ice cream?
Because they tell you, you have cold
When the real reason is ‘we don't have the means'
And your howl turns to a croak.
Remember those fancy pants
You would like to wear on graduation day
But they only tell you of the cants
Makes you wonder about love and what it means to hate.

Some grow up by seeing
Scenes like in slow moving films
In retrospect, wishing they had not seen
Things that make them heart broken
Confidential crimes
That is neither theirs nor mine.
But they became accessories
Repertoires that had no monopolies.
Have you ever held a brother?
While he died in your arms
Or watched a mother raped
By the husband she called her man.
Have you ever stood on a witness stand?
To testify against a criminal
That smiles at them before he kills with his hand
Because he knows the judge that presides at his trial.
When you walk away
You feel hollow
Hoping there will be another day
So that you could give vent to your sorrow
If you have, you will know
All there is to know
About the tears that suck your guts out
Which you still want to cry, but you can't
Because you may not be able to stop.

I have heard of pre-destinations
I also wonder if this is not another form of superstition
Whenever I think of Pulitzer
I also remember Adolf Hitler
All the theatres of excellence
Became,
So that man could shrug off the cloak of decadence.
Still …
And this is where I bow to the power of will
Adam and Eve
The serpent, the apple and the tree.
God
Will always have the last word.
If I believe some were born to win
While others gather the dregs those who won left to eat
Then I am just one big program
That began and ended with no hope of anagram.

I also remember the story of another
Born blind and deaf
When Christ was asked who sinned?
He replied none, but just so His name could be glorified
Yet we know there could be no answer
Without the question
Just as the quest for freedom starts with the awareness of a restriction.

Circumstance is like a report card dropped in our lap
It speeds us up either to be good or to be bad.
Both is a transformation
That ends in a direction
Like coming upon two forks on a road
One leads to damnation, the other to hope
I am yet to hear there is a scarcity of it
I am yet to hear the human spirit has a limit
Growth comes as a result of making choices
It does not matter which podium we are
But there's no mistaking we always hear these voices
What do you think of power?
Do you ever give thoughts to your last hour?
How would you like to go?
Like a snail or Usain bolt?
Do you honestly have friends?
Or are they just means to an end?
Do you think you have achieved?
Or have you just been deceived?

It is good that we stop and pause
Because one day this life will come to a stop.
I used to think age
Was a numbers game
Until I ran across the story
Of Sammie with the no surname
I used to think grey hair
Was the mark of the sage
Until the word congenital defect
Made me realize how sometimes we have to come up for air
Depleted dentition and sunken cheeks
Is not necessarily passage of time as it is a
Result of bad habits.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Patricia Grantham 07 February 2013

A really good write, Thanks fellow Poet

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Don Ketchy 05 February 2013

@Gajanan Mishra... Thank you for the visit. I will certainly pay a visit to your works. Bless...I

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Don Ketchy 05 February 2013

@ The Reader... thank you for checking this out. Its very much appreciated... Bless

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The Reader 04 February 2013

Ikechukwu Ogbuike! ! ! Most welcome here with your insightful poetry, as i remember this piece i read on some other poetry site, my favorite lines are: Just as the quest for freedom starts with the awareness of a restriction. Circumstance is like a report card dropped in our lap... your style is so different as if you don't write for others, but for your own catharsis & satisfaction... a thoughtful poem! ! !

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Gajanan Mishra 04 February 2013

Come up for free air. good one. I invite you to read my poems and comment.

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