Deafening echoes loud the markets in the noonday.
The ever buzzing street screams silence.
Empty yellow boxes abandoned here and there!
Where is everyone?
On the other side of town,
Came a welcoming foul smell;
From mountainous garbages.
The tyres and toys of the street kids.
Lying like the dry bones in Elisha's vision.
The white houses are now brown n rickety,
And their doors and windows vacillate.
To the rhythm of the hurling wind.
Up the high school road,
The caps were hanging idly;
Waiting for the meritorious heads.
The schools are filled with nothing.
On the corporate world,
The letters are longing for warm gleeful palms.
The golden color of the streets
Speaks of its isolation.
Where is everyone?


By Ifunanya Nwodigwe

Please drop your comments. Thanks

Nice one...I could use it as a play on stage.

Your poem is nice and I love your Allusion. Follow me and I will kindly follow back.

khuja:
Nice one...I could use it as a play on stage.

thanks. I'm honoured

RemenZack:
Your poem is nice and I love your Allusion. Follow me and I will kindly follow back.

thanks dear. I'm following you now

anitapreeti:
Deafening echoes loud the markets in the noonday
The ever buzzing street screams silence
Empty yellow boxes abandoned here and there
But where is everyone?
On the other side of town
Came a welcoming foul smell
From mountainous garbages
The tyres and toys of the street kids
Lying like the dry bones in Elisha's vision.
The white houses are now brown n rickety
And there doors and windows vacillate
To the rhythm of the hurling wind
Up the high school road
The caps were hanging idly
Waiting for the meritorious heads
The schools are filled with nothing
On the coprate world
The letters are longing for warm gleeful palms.
The golden color of the streets
Spoke of its isolation.
Where is everyone?


By Ifunanya Nwodigwe

Please drop your comments. Thanks

nice poem also... seems u love writing, can we talk??

yes I do love writing n of course we can talk.

anitapreeti:

thanks dear. I'm following you now

yes I do love writing n of course we can talk.

I actually wrote that

Nice poem

Uhomanbulus110:
Nice poem

Thanks