My cry is no longer new
My fear is now just few
My thought, I will gladly hew
Dismayed, I lack hearts on the pew
...
I want to write a poem
But my poem lacks the voice to speak
It lacks sponsors for its beauty
...
"Groundnut! Groundnut! ! Buy your groundnut! " The voice rang.
Oh! A general is gone
There lies an unripe future
...
Little girl, who made you?
Who designed the laughing wool on your head?
It has the colour of Africa
...
You've drown my heart with the ocean of love
You kept it under the spell of your heart
You initiated my fragility into the springs of your agility
My hands can no longer delay to host a smile on your neck
...
My story is gory
It is not in hurry
It is in the air we breathe
...
I'm that name
That knew sores
One whose system
Pipes hunger
...
Somewhere in Uwah
Righteous tears chorus at night
From eyes whose existence
Was made a crime by dust
...
From the aching gullet of Africa
The wind protests
In clear accents
Against the footprints of inhumanity in Africa
...
Even yesterday
You stole my sweat
You deflowered it
Despite the plea at bay
...