Christian Tobechukwu Okafor
To you I hoisted all ear
But to you they hardened hearts
Why mere tales of you they wear
Because you threaded their parts?
You I spat out with no count
But you the self-made teachers
Heed not; yet claim your preachers
For on them now you have mount.
Brow-raising on them you fly
Crowning their face with no smile
While a mile I stand and smile;
Sheepy wolves merit no life.
They on me cruelly march and smash
While the rude cause for their rude smash
Has now crooked their knife edges
Last time I turned the news pages
Oh, can it be undone?
I quiz in great wonder
For so long I so mourn
But they shall weep longer.
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Comments about this poem (The Truth! by Christian Tobechukwu Okafor )
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