Dry Christmas Poem by Kingsley Egbukole

The sun is high and intense
Hot and charcoal-like burning
The harmattan gale is blowing trumpet
Dry and chilly cold haze
That induces tempting sluggishness
Luring it's converts to slumber

Like the weather dry is the resources
Hard like the earth crust is life
Gloomy faces working tirelessly for little
Day in day out the frustration mounts
As all the campaign promises are now a ruse
The stark reality glaring on poor souls
Precipitate regrettable but unredeemable hope

Confined to dry Christmas is no doubt
Even the banks cannot give you your money
Restricted to your room is now a norm
When the available money cannot buy you fuel
And in the house the table is empty
When the cooking pots have nothing to cook

How regrettable is a Christmas so dry
Unlike yesteryears when we had plenty
And everywhere was gay and merry
How terribly bad things have changed
So soon and so quick to the worse
And now with us is a dry Christmas.

(Wednesday,13/12/2023,7.30pm)