Grandma's Story Poem by Chukwuebuka Adebayo

In the 1800s, when i was born,
In a log house old as the sun;
Africa was as small hut by a shore,
You could trek it through in an hour
Many were years down the drain,
I was once mad, a pampered bairn;
And would not followed simple recipes
I later burnt my lungs smoking pipes.


God had made door for that day,
As a maid's fluid for a baby's way;
Then I was just old as fourteen,
There was a christmas i cannot clean;
Off my memory, It was a big rout,
I will tell you all what it was about;
My father, drinking down his cold bocks;
Asked me to kill one of his grown cocks.


He gave to me a flashing knife,
And said, 'It's time to take his life;
To become soup, cut his head off;
And I will have for myself his bough''
Caught with fear at a capon detached,
He escaped withno his head attached;
Running and suffering death and odds,
Spraying all of the place with bloods.