Alone The Veterans Deserve Flowers Poem by Haruna Garba

A germ of idea.
Yea, a real germ!
Nay, a virus!
When conceived?
How conceived?
Why conceived?
All these beat me
and when born,
christened it was
first in miniature chorus
to grow to a podium size
only to encompass me later
I, who wouldn't offer blood sacrifice.

Why should I care
to board train of unceremonious end
where only the armed dead
are to enjoy veteran status-
the old, the minors and women
to be left to the tides.
This now is the living veteran's story
which I unfold with a drooping mouth
hanging from an almost starving shabby being.