I Still Have My Yam Poem by John Chizoba Vincent

I went to the market yesterday,
I saw people wandering away
Those buying and those stealing,
But the nagging market speak not.


Thank God I still have my yam,
I didn't lose it in the hands of thieves.
The yam of this world is enough for all
But many wants to eat alone without others.


I was in the church on sunday,
Many came also with the Bible
While others came without Bible;
Others slept while the sermon was on.

Thank God I still have my yam of faith,
I didn't lose it with the demon of sleep
Who sow sorrow not wheat in people' lives,
The words was sown in my heart not on the rock.

I walked on the road with my dreams today,
I met many lost in thought of tomorrow
Some bagged their problems on their back
And others push theirs inside a wheel barrow.

I checked my heavy pocket and saw my yam;
I still have my yam of perseverance with me,
Then I waved and cried for those that lost theirs.
A little oil of courtesy will save lots of friction.

I checked in in a five star hotel days ago,
I dialogued with many that couldn't find meaning
to life anymore, I discovered that many
are burning bridges instead of building bridges.

I understand that the yam of this world
Is enough for all mouth to chew and live,
But many can not find their own yam.
Many tall, big, and cruel fingers has taken all.

I was admitted in the university last year,
I saw many students tall, short, fat and thin,
There, I discovered many who didn't know
Why they were in school or what to do in life.

When I checked I still have my yam of
reasoning; my yam of creativity still loots
my life. Uniqueness birth separately from those
There, I still have my yam of life to live.


(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Voice Of Vincent 2016