The Widow's Son Poem by Onuora ilodibe

The one that crooked akimbo
Chin way high up the windows Lah Bluejays skies flamingoes
Pardon my slangs and gismo

Gazing into azure vault above
Viterous humor reflects hope
Condign in rays and rainbow
Deficient as leaves pale yellow

Wonder far from cast and kin
Wanton not for pasture seeks
Ostracized by pigment of skin
Strives to survive non believes

In the heart of a torques grind
The city sign read corpus clad
Writhe as broken contortionist
Winter cradles at corner Street

A dollar is to hundreds of ours
Did dirty chores for paltry sum
wage stipend for donkey hours Life is sure not for a lazy bum

When journey far from home
Trouble in sync good fortune
Ignoble yob very lost in Frisco
Heard stories of glory in fiasco

A black boy lost in the barrow
Found anew in twist of horror
No help is there son of widow
Gangling sentry at the corridor

Leashes to tame a salvage dog Scurry the labyrinth dense fog
Tarry for God knows long how
Jekyll an Hyde turns southpaw