Street Urchins - Poem by Phillips Olayanju
Many stories twitched my youthful ear
In grades the advice came
The more I grew, the more they fared
Good and bad before me were placed
With ponderous confussion in my care.
At a crossroad,
I took the crooked road
On a dumbfounding journey
To painstaking success.
After a decade,
We all came to another crossroad
In retrospect some wept
In elusive memory some drank.
On my porch they daily siege
With breath-punctuated chants
And sobriquets ringing through the air
Rhythmic salute stamp-footing the ground
Rendering lucrative eulogies
A business many have resorted to
In the face of promising unemployment
From generations to generations.
Innovatingly jilting people
With precocious brains unput to test
Turned into miscreants
Despodent owners of clinging bottles
Beleaguered voters of political overlords
To rest in peace
With unutilized potentials.
Poet's Notes about The Poem
*tuale baba: A yoruba word used to hail rich men
*precocious*: well developed
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