Charcoal Boy Poem by Akujuobi Chijioke

Oh that look, I know that look when I see one

Its the look of pity, pain and denial

In his cold eyes, like the iceberg that wrecked the titanic,

Lies the wretchedness of his doleful mind.




Striding in the dust, lifting his agony with both hands,

The grounds even rejects the weight of his futility

With calloused colour and a wizened apperance,

He hides his pain behind the shoulders of mother nature.




How much can he take from this bloody world of inequality;

As he passes seeing his contemporaries learning in enclosed barricades;

While he nudges his bundle of dark grief, calling out for willing buyers.

Patronize to his unwilling drudgery makes him feel less human.




Reminiscing on the scars, empty bowels, sleepless nights as punishments,

Metted out by his masters, he lets an effusive tear

If only he knows what bountiful banquet destiny prepared for his employ

He'll march gracefully on Kings street as the charcoal boy...