Change Poem by mark nwagwu

It riles me to be told
I must be one of the fold
who leave their homes
ever on the roam
seeking new Romes.

How shallow they are
measured by palaces
in far away places
to foist on another
a land without a mother.

What about my father
with all he could gather
all the world in a basket
living love in air-filled caskets
feeding his children wisdom in banquets

I'm not done yet with my sins
seeking to get to the bottom of thins
dig up the mess from years of neglect
that I may see and soundly reflect
on the change I want to be

Coined in new image of self
that my father may fill the earth
with blissful mirth
and tell all he sees
that's my son on martyred seas.