Uwadiegwu Poem by Goodness Tchibueze

When others were hammering through her,
He chose to brush his way through
Without raising dust motes in the air;
Yet his efforts revolved within whirling shadows.
When dust motes which spurted from
The thudding of the others' hammers
Around him attacked his eyes,
And a rock heaved itself upon him;
He became a loss and a memory.
He lost his soft, sweet taste when all
Fell on him and lowered him to the mud.
...She was hard and disallowed softness.