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stayed on the river bank
all day long until dusk
but not even a bit
on the fishing rod
there is this waiting game
that leaves alot of loss, as a trail of no hope
looking beyond the edge of the hieght
for a ray of light
ears are blocked by the thudding of the heart
mere fear, for the future is bleak
working oneself to the bone
curving deep into the heart's core
for answers of actions long history
nothing tangible achieved
hope is lost, feeling damned
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Its all about the recent protest and the way in Nigeria and the way the government reacted
This poem questions how it is possible for a parent to stop loving a child.
This poem describes how I feel like a disposable person.
A short commentary about faith in strangers in high places..
A writing on the loss of one of my dearest friends to cancer, years on..