The Beautiful Ones Are Not Yet Born Poem by Chika Nwokeoma

My lover left me
for my boss who drives a Mercedes.
Here I sat in silence
loaded with sadness;
‘nna*…'the beautiful ones are not yet born'
my Ma said.
The thought of an ant wanting to wrestle an elephant...
that's madness.

I drive a VW tortoise-like car
left for me by my dad
left for him by his dad
and a large Standard English dictionary,
that spelt out life and death…
...that was all I got.

I decide to save for a Mercedes
Saved in a bank, in socks, piggy money box, under the carpet...
Saved into the fifth month of the second year.

with grin that can intimidate laurels, I dashed off
to buy a Mercedes
but...
the make I had in mind is outdated;
upgraded... cost more than I had saved,
grinning face turns stone
I felt the ground gave way under me
feet loaded with cement;
dreams, plans grew wings
and flew into oblivion...
if eyes were guns
I would have been shot by the salesman
as I stupidly stood my shaken ground,
embarrassed with my outdated ideas.

I still felt that moment hadn't existed
but it did...as real as life
whoever say we don't have our minutes of madness.

Thoughts of my lover and my boss in a Mercedes
heightened the burden
as they cruise around wonders of civilization
…and everything I hate.
I almost cursed my grandad, my dad, myself,
a VW tortoise car...
that has seen better days.

Much Ado about nothing…
I decided to leg it home
As the day's anger emits from my chemistry
to silts, sand and rocks.

the later decision took ages,
but mind cudgelling turned exciting.
I made new discoveries;
aside from huge amount in my savings
and not to compete in vanities,
words from my Ma brought back smiles...
" the beautiful ones are not yet born"