Quiet Times Poem by Dr Anthony Onoja

If and only if they saw the moving clouds
Read through the writings on my walls
They maybe will have understand the beating on my thighs
The future were all hidden in my backyard
As though a pumping crude oil running through my living room
They all fell into trance when the future suddenly appeared
The greeted it with brevity and loins girded with jealousy
Why the fallen countenance oh! lost foe from yesterday?
Why sadden by the richness of my hard work?
It is true we all wrestle yesterday together in mud
And sang with lips blistered with loveliness
Nether did I denied you like Peter Pontus Pilate
I moved on in a moving train called the future
Gaze into the night sky and read the writeups on my walls
Perhaps you will understand me better
Maybe you may understand the coldness of my today
And see why the future was created without your frown.
Then you may understand the quietness of my today