Shade Poem by Peter Egba

The clouds are gathered
Oh! the threat of rain
As if it were a disaster
Brings me so much pain
Just because the scenario matters
Though it rained me pain

Where! Where can I find a roof?
How! How can it be a proof?
When all that surrounds me reproves
And all I have is a roof
That rain disprove
Even when it's made of metal roof

Can this be true?
That when one finds solace
He may as well lose a woe?
Oh! What an empty place
Where the heart get sick
For the future's uncertain trick

This is certainly true
That gold, silver and bronze
Is for the chosen one
Why can't I be chosen?
Or to be chosen is divine?
Oh! Fate, I must alter you by faith