The First Victims Poem by Kporho Vwede Daniel

THE FIRST VICTIMS

Walking back on triple feet
From where newspapers float
They sit down forming a nations map
Where tumblers hit the table
Like a bullet sound from Plateau state
The table bearing dry gin and cigarette
The altar of the discussion
They talk sorrows and smoked it to the gods
the gods they pour dry gin to
To get high and hear the people cry
They are the first victims

Their memories still in tact
Their veins stretch and faces rumpled
As they open their mouth
It bled painful events, dates and names
Deep dates like 1914 and 1967
Others few years ago
Too many to remember
Names upon names mentioned
They called today's date too
With terrifying events
Some yet to happen
By tomorrow we will be old too
They mentioned the second victims

©Kporho Vwede Daniel
(General Ali Official)