Poetry

October 22, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION

Karim Logue photo

 

By

Emmanuel Ojelade

 

 

 

The Story In My Head

 

 

(Sounds of Silence)

 

 

Would I have had it any better in life?

Why would it be me?

Why would he hurt me?

He is my Father

 

Why would he get closer to me?

Why would he unbutton me and tell me not to shout?

and why did I not?

Why did I not tell Mom?

 

That her husband, my father is not the man he was once

Now, he craves for me, his product,

That he didn’t do it just once

but more times that I have even lost count

 

I am hurt but can only speak to myself

For one word out, is hell

I am fearful not to speak, for he said

DO NOT DARE SAY ANYTHING, or you are gone {dead}

 

Mom, I am sorry but each time you inquire,

“Are you feeling fine, Glory?”

I can only say “Yes Ma,” a deceiving story;

I can only smile at you

 

For the man in front

Is not a man

but a beast who feasts

on his own kids.

 

I fear for my own death to not come at this young age

Perhaps, I can tell only myself this tale

Till when he is old

and the story can then be told.

 

 

 

 

 

Imagine

 

 

Imagine a world for no and everyone

Where we all are here to be as one and to save the world

Where we have no differences at heart despite the differences at hand

and our nations can all relate with one happy and unified mind

 

Imagine a place like home that is not your or my own

Where we could shelter as many people it could condone

a home with fights and get back togethers

Where nothing is left in our hearts to keep that might lead to someone’s death at night

 

Imagine a dreamland, not this wander-land we think is a wonderland

Where the only thing we seek is profit over feelings

Money over family and corruption over redemption

But such a land that is rich in the manna we have in our hands and give out to those who lack and never had

 

Imagine a world where the world knows and does right

And we could all end these meaningless fights

That has taken so many lives

Till we were so lost fighting that we forgot to take care of our dying brothers while they were alive

 

Imagine a world where we could reach to the next person’s soul

Let him or her know

I am here and all will be well

And we are not so selfish that we always want to neglect them

 

Imagine and keep doing so

Let us plant in the hearts of our neighbors what we’d all like to sow

For what is worth doing is better done well

And we can all have for each and every one of us, a living watered-well

 

I know that you may think this is unachievable

But what is not achievable is what we cannot imagine

For the power for us to become one is locked in

And we just all need to tap in, knock on the door and see what beauty every one of us has within.

 

You are not black and I am not white

We didn’t come here to be, by colors recognized

We came here to show that we can care

And that is why we all are here.

 

 

 

 

 

Emmanuel Ojelade

Emmanuel Ojelade is a poet and writer who’s majorly involved in humanitarian acts.

Editor review

0 Comments

No Comments Yet!

You can be first to comment this post!

Leave a Reply