Lost In The Call... Poem by Uwakwe Uchechkwu

I.
He seats confused in solitude
His hand he dips in
And out comes an old ear phone,
An ear phone from his worn out pocket,
Probably worn out from its master's ordeal:
The world he has been living in had gone sour
Since the time before his existence as a foetus,
Filled with too many truths and lies
That he knows not which to believe nor discard:
At one end of the street he treks on,
politicians chant aloud their progandas
And barren promises.
At the other end, you can see children almost bones
As they lie waiting for deaths sour kiss.
At the other end, poverty displays her merchandise
on human lives.
At the other end, men drag for supremacy of religions.
And at the other end, men gamble
With human lives on a round table.

II.
As he thinks to himself of a freedom sweet like honey.
An ear phone he brings out,
Melodies of a familiar song breaks away
Like a wild horse galloping in the wild atmosphere.
An ear phone, he blocks his ears,
Halts a taxi, closes its doors,
Smiles, nods his head,
Bades at the present world,
Rides away into a familiar world
And next, diffusing memories,
Filled with imaginations, rage and energy seeps in.
Arousing his veins like caffein
And a voice beckons,
' be lost in the harmonies of the beat of music'

III.
He is the least troubled
on the road he treks on.
Other passerbys suffer atleast two, three, four, five, six,
seven, eight, nine worries.
Some even suffer from two million
And thirty four thousand worries.
But for him,
Lucky him,
He drains his worries at the feet of music.