By: Ebuka Nwachukwu
Level: 1
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)
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It is not the cock crow that wakes me up everyday
I hear dad’s voice as loud as a bullhorn yet again today
I see the passion in the eyes; it’s hate no doubt
Is there a surgery that can change one inside out?
There was a kid who worked really hard and meant well
The blood all over his hands and shirt the telltale
Armed with his scissors and razor the tailor cut cloth from curtains, bed sheets and rags
Mum’s designer could not tell her why he worked so hard; what she said was a gag
Everyone told me to hold my head up high and shoulders straight
But the thing is kids my age had a lot to say about each and every trait
Time passed and my head got bent and my shoulders curved
It’s been long since I accepted that I am not someone who is loved.
But the head resting on the car glass is not heavy with worry
The quiet kid with the headphones on is in peace and is not sorry
Experience has helped him adapt and now he is deaf, dumb and numb
The voices in the music box always assure him that he is not a scum
Pick a gun, kill a stranger; fight for another man’s cause
You can’t ask him to stop because he can’t remember who he was
A child who is reassured by voices of misguided kids and deaf to any other sound is who you saw
The bright child who wanted love and friendship and who made clothes for mum is no more.
(1 votes, average: 5.00 out of 5)Loading...
Nwachukwu Chukwuebuka Oguchi is a 300 level accounting student of Uniport and a holder of the ICAN AAT certification. He loves writing and reading. His interests are poetry, prose, satirical works and melancholic literature. Facebook username and handle name: wondakid16; Ebuka Nwachukwu.
