The Shepard's Of Arcadia 23 Poem by Felix Emeka George

I am on the sky like an infant moon,
A lonely snail in the village.
My dear dead parents,
Those who are my neigbours
Are saying - charity begins at home
As your soul mate in light walk,
I am looking for home
Where there is no home,
Because
My father's and mother's possession
Has been buzzard by those relatives
Who inherited the inheritance?
Because of the custom and culture
Which are noted?
That I am a woman,
A man's slave
They have called me,
A second class - citizen,
They have mutinied against me greatly,
The land on palm avenue road,
And those pieces of land on Iwela Land,
That could have saved me

For today and Tomorrow and Tomorrow,
Has been twisted in turn
To their strive and to their shares,
Those properties, old and new
Has been shared
My relations who always came then,
To pet my chest.
And rounding their arms
On my neck.
They are the prodigals
I am remaining a second-class-woman, of
My parent's only effect
That waits for waste
as slave girl gyre after today
I shall start to explore the world
Completing a revelation that awaits me
A bright lesson of light,
Which is breaking?
Shining into the future sight
And to me
Means fortuitous my people.