Poetry

Peter Alawode

By

Moses Chukwuemeka Daniel

Unmerited wealth

I’m sorry if all I could tell,

Was a lie from the pit of hell,

There wasn’t a way to make you believe,

Clearly you want more than you see,

I had just the words in my mouth,

You got manoeuvred by those lies,

123 and you were there in my arms,

I couldn’t explain that wasn’t me,

Actually it was the guy in my dreams,

And there you were holding a fake,

You wanted a beautiful cake,

I’m sorry you fell for it,

I’m sorry if it meant being foolish,

Now you know I’m a horse

Now you know I’m not a unicorn,

I only buried an emerald in my heart,

I wish you had seen the truth inside,

Now the truth turned a lie,

Now the whole story turned a prank,

I’m not sorry for myself,

But for you who wants unmerited wealth.

The new house

Breakfasts are not it anymore,

Breakfasts get me breaking fast,

Dad’s always on the run,

I’ll be back;

His words,

Mum is so new,

Mum is so few,

Be a good boy,

She retorts,

I was never bad,

Until their eyes lost sight,

Seeing more afar,

And less within,

Maybe without their eyes,

Blurred as yesterday,

I felt them drifting away,

Our home was gone,

We left the old home,

In the old house,

Our laughter was plenteous,

Our quietness humorous,

Our meals were delicious,

Our peace contagious,

Our unity contiguous,

With less income,

Less absence,

Less quiet quietness,

Less homelessness,

Less indifference,

I’m in a new house,

With the old people,

But in a new home,

My dad was gone,

No good bye,

My mum was lost,

Without a word,

I’ll be here lucked up,

In this cell,

A male and female guard,

To watch me while i die,

In this so called house,

Where everything is dark.

Moses Chukwuemeka Daniel

Moses Chukwuemeka Daniel is from Nigeria and is the fourth child of a family of seven. He is aspiring to study English and literary studies in university.