Goodluck Yet To Come Poem by Tony Adah

This year is different
Nothing seems
To espouse goodluck
Even when my president
Sets a precedent of goodluck
There's still a moan
Of pain this morning
The street cleaners can not
Sweep unemployment
Into the incinerator
Neither is democracy
Given its proper garden to flourish.
I have been to the stream
But my fish traps are replete with crabs
If this year fizzles
Easily away,
There's hope that
My rumbling tummy will stop
And my squelchy steps
Will walk on a solid ground
Then I will reap
My sweat and that
Of my own father.