Sins Of My Father Poem by Obodokasi Ade'etem Agbor

My father, he left calabash and cowries
For enamels and pounds,
Later forlet clay, rafter works
And turned to the seas and ships away.
No sorrows, I and my friend can play
Kpapkangolo around the yard without a man to shout us away.

My father, he left our mud huts
Derided rafter mats
And longed for vast castles in the lands aftersea.
No sorrow, the mango tree behind our hut is ovulating,
How joyful to know that I can eat a basketful without a man to knock it out.

He abandoned his father's shrine
His morning duty of drinking palm-wine
For the chapels and temples over the railway line.
Oh, Look the man I have become
At the start of harvest season
I, not my father shall have the first fruit offers neck deep in pocket.

As I sat to enjoy my ripened mangoes
I saw a man yon the fields
With a soured face wanting food and place,
With semblance of my father
Approaching,
Same strut as my father's
'The castles of Cheshire are nought like my father's hut' He said.
At instance,
The child and fear that had long fled me returned.