September 27, 2018 Poetry , POETRY / FICTION




Ngozi Olivia Osuoha




The Girl Child (ii)



Yes, she is just a child

Left; she grows wild,

Nurtured; she becomes great

Though with much sweat,

Maltreated; she gets shrunk

Unguarded; she gets sunk,

This is the time to act

Let us make a huge impact.


Today, she is zero

Sure, she must be a hero,

Guide her through teen

Help her become Queen,

Give her the instruction

And avert her destruction,

Otherwise we all shall regret

If we lose this golden target.


Pick her from the garbage

And stand her on the stage,

Teach her to read and write

And make her; attraction site,

Take her to her Creator

He will make her an author,

Help her with breakfast

Encourage her to be steadfast.








Strong Worded Memo To Mr Uniform



I saw the angel of doom;

In front with his sword,

I saw the angel of vengeance;

By the left with his axe,

I saw the angel of retaliation;

By the right with his spear,

I saw the angel of destruction;

Behind with his arrow,

I saw the angel of ‘Tsunami’

By the centre swimming in blood,

I saw the angel of NIGHTFALL

He passed around.

This is a strong-worded memo

How i wish you would understand,

I pray that you think twice,

Crawl to safety and take cover.

Mr Uniform; Please reform

Inform and perform,

Arise O Compatriot.


Your sleepless neighbour.






Words On My Mirror (v)



Go for an illiterate. Flee from a FOOL.

Everyone is afraid. Everyone is suspecting everyone. Too bad, everyone.

Many a time, arrogant people are truly empty.

Hail anyone who intelligently foresees and interprets issues. Do not envy him. Never pull him down. It is for our good.

We must give all ‘for’ our children especially the rod.

A proud mind thinks, others are against him even his people.

Flee from anyone who always praises you.

Waiting in every sense is tiresome and unbearable, but actually it ends ‘wanting’.

If we learn from each other, we could move on together.

Hunger goes beyond bread and wine.








The Haggard Black Widow



In a little corner of the village

She lives with some damage,

There; is a thick bush

Her life she does push,

Struggling for ends to meet

As the rich move in fleet;

Poor black widow.


She travels several miles

Under the sun; no smiles,

Just to arrive at the stream

With her mud-pot and team,

Hungry Children looking sick

Brilliant future needing lick;

Hopeless black widow.


Haggard, dirty and shabby

With none near to lobby,

She treks a long kilometer

As constant as her parameter,

In search of some firewood

To cook some funny food;

Malnourished black widow.


Her Children are intelligent

But a helper is negligent,

Their school uniforms are torn

Their sandals are off and worn,

They are always sent away

For fees; they could not pay;

Hungry black widow.


Visit her in the rain

And see her pain,

Under her thatched roof

Open with waterproof,

Wet and leaking all sides

Stinking, dirty as it divides;

Troubled black widow.


Her times, mostly in the farm

Snakes and men do harm,

Her nights lonely and longer

Dream boring and darker,

She wishes to curse the earth

Just waiting for death;

Helpless black widow.









Ngozi Olivia Osuoha

Ngozi Olivia Osuoha Is a Nigerian graduate of Estate Management with experience in Banking and Broadcasting. She has published over one hundred poems in over ten countries. Her two longest poems of 355 and 560 verses are available on amazon, THE TRANSFORMATION TRAIN and LETTER TO MY UNBORN respectively. She is a passionate African ink.

Editor review


No Comments Yet!

You can be first to comment this post!

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.