....




I go to New York City
The suburbs
I see children my age;
In shiny black shoes
Well ironed school clothes
Protruded stomachs
Wearing both ties and smiles
Carrying lunch boxes
As huge as an elephant's tusk
From Thailand.

Vroom zoooom
Pim pim
Vroom zoom
Traffic lights blaring;
Reds, oranges, Greens.
Yellow taxes in long queues

'Good Morning America'
just like the movies,
Eddie Murphy.

In the city
I see parents;
Men and women wearing
Happiness and fulfillment
On their long faces;
For parenting is dying to self
To live for others.

Back home
I had had to be a man
Even before i could talk
Cause in my part of the world
Nothing ever seem to work

My father, a war veteran who still
Cry for spilling innocent blood
In a war between two mad men.
Announced,
The news of the death of his comrade,
Odonniski, the optimistic one
Who died at the pension office
Waiting to collect, in a resigned tone
He too is tired.
Weary from having done too much
With too little outcomes.

*after a moment of silence*
He languidly whispers from the receivers end
Of the telephone'

The festivals will not hold this year, Son
Our people barely have enough
To eat now a days
Times are hard.

In my part of the world
Nothing ever seem to change.
Times had always been hard since the beginning;
I mean since like Adam and Eve.
The fathers and mothers live in penury
Their children will inherit their fates
Soon or later
Recycled.
But maybe live more miserably
And in debt
They are educated and too civilized now.






Godwin Henry Osaigbovo Pa Shakespeare..