Ucheama Chigozie

Ucheama Chigozie Poems

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Will It Ever End?

When on our heels we fall, face down our eyes seeing
The mean face of the earth upon us staring
Tears dripping pouring libations to gods unknown
That delights in the suffering of the poor souls it own

Weakness beget despondence, our weary eyes upon heaven looking
Vision blurry by the mirthless waters the eyes's oozing
Man on your own; even heaven is formless
He tries to find Succor; This being when he's helpless

With dry and cranky hands trembling, i wave to passersby
For vain t'is, none by my side looked nor borthered
Upon his laden, none void of it; every man had his eye
The call of his neighbor none answered

n anguish I laid mourning my ill fortune
Famished, my bruises I let the flies tend
Who plays the sticks in t'is ocherstra of bad tune
A question; will it ever end?

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