The Weight In The Wait Poem by John Chizoba Vincent

We still wait behind
with the weight in our wait,
none of the burdens has reduced
but, they are adding more and more
In each day that passes by.
In case you see us like goats with broken legs,
death is no more far, he is like a distance from
our nose to our eyes.
We caused the thorns in our weight; we caused it.
Here, we waited for the weight to be weightless,
we still sit here waiting without acting.
With the weight in our wait, we sold our conscience for a penny, and watched the murderer of justice
in the land escaped through our nose.
We have nothing to offer anymore than bitter sweet tears and voiceless voice dying in fear.
Our griefs broke from us to our home which
as our oppressors phrased it were:
'The ugliest sorrowful life ever seen'
We still sing bitterly here with the weight in our wait.




(C) John Chizoba Vincent
Voices Of Vincent 2016