Table Of Consent
He sups in the same plate with the devil,
Long spoon clasped in the palm of his hand.
Conscious of the presence of the impending evil,
That ravaged short-spoon off its garland.
Sumptuosness corrode the bones of his reflexes,
And his rusty back glued to the dinning seat.
The host, through with his guest's excesses,
Pondered on the symmetric dissection of his meat.
Transaction ends on the table of consent.
With all he had he paid the ultimate price.
Now a goat rope-led against its intent,
He became the meat on the bowl of his rice.
The guest went the worn out ways of the others,
The usual fate across the borders.
Comments about this poem (Table Of Consent by Adeoye Adetoba )
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