He Speaks Of His Life, My Dad.... Poem by Uwakwe Uchechkwu

Life to me has been a room
Sometimes tis dark and gloomy
Sometimes tis lit up
Sometimes the earth here quakes
Sometimes the earth here blooms

The record player here plays of my memories
There're potraits hanging on the old wall
As old as me
Each potrait, different faces from the other
And one would wonder why these potraits
look so different from the other and yet same potrait
Each potrait, a depiction of seasons and times

There're has been a long dining table here
The past dines with the present here
And the occupants, these occupants are those
Whose lives have been engraved on the walls
of my soul, never to be cleaned off.

So son, live your life
Don't forget the good deeds
Forgive squarely but learn your lesson
Don't forget who you are
But forget what you are
Don't give way for what you are to define who you are
Live life but don't forget what it's mean't to be.