Bironga Chadwick Poems
I want to know something,
About our field of play,
Whenever I want us to play,
Whenever I want to score goals,
You always tell me that it's raining in the field,
And you always have an umbrella to make me believe it's raining.
How many times does it rain in a month?
Even during the El Nino?
I want to know,
Am tired of this rain in our playground,
Let me touch the umbrella,
And see if it's wet.
What hurts the most,
Like being told you're the best,
But because you came late,
You found a closed gate,
And inspite of any given compliment,
She says that you never meant.
What hurts most like an empty consolation,
When all you get is but an empty narration,