The Hard Knots Poem by Michael Eziudo

See them gather and in their eyes they matter
Here lives the end of help if I sort any a helper
Foolish wise men with feathers like lead lazy leaders
Aren't there babes with eyes of the eagles
Should the tomb of my mother be too hot for her corps
Where skeletons eye the spots to bury there bones

When shall the skies drop the dews on arid lands
Sleep holds the guards while the babes lie awake
Here comes a time when sons father the fathers
And the ripest fruit the saddest as ponds become a lake
Withhold the rod they cry and bow for their sons they curse
Should the wise white fool that dictate my principle dictate my living
My skin is my custom, my custom is my skin, take my skin and I'm diseased.

You still seat unadjourned?
The whitehead a worthy example but his lifestyle?
He laughs at my white wedding after my igbankwu
He asks if the double marriage makes the union any stronger
He teaches me education but questions the wisdom in skinning my body
And brothers show greed as benefits of their acquired knowledge
He learnt to detonate bangs for to kill fear I learnt to hoard if for rainy days
Let them that gather make a padluck against their own keys

Yet see them gather and in their eyes they matter
What decision shall channel right the plans of my unborn foetus
Could come from expired wise brains that feat a seat as watchful elders
Living dog is better than a dead lion so they let the mouth bite the fingers that feed it
And so let no shout be heard let no curses ply the air
For we live as we watched them that went before us set us on a course we must follow
Let now tomorrow generation tell what they heard
And let the ones after them hear what is told
To copy and to reform and to be worst has a route it must end