BEFORE THE OLDEN DAYS(a poem by Sunsampaul Egwu)

Before the olden days
What happened?
Was it that homo sapiens
Where busy flaunting their private part in the air of unseen matter
Parabolating in the sphere of bushes
Dancing to the tune of hibiscus and rose
Life is sweet they thought
Where they in
Melancholy or ecstasy?
Where they created or procreated?

Was it before the olden days
That slave trade once live in our vineyard
That military coup became a daily news
That children run helter scatter
Mammals flaunting their breast to be sucked by hot dreaded sun
Men forced into Biafra war
Planes parading our town dropping droplet of dropping drops of bomb
Roof flaunting in the space of tin air
Bushes screaming in  forest

Was it before the olden days
That foreigners were sent parking
Troop lashing them with lashes back to their countries
Foreigners clustered in squatted tattered vehicle
With their "Ghana must go" on their head
They mourn for the maltreatment of their young ones
Their face folded like compressed loaf of agege bread
Eyes swollen like someone punched by May-Weather

Isn't it before the olden days
That white was distinguished from black
That made our fertile and profitable vegetations    spilled with oil
spillage caused by white
That made black
Kidnapped white in returns for the mess they created
Black begin to feed in dirty harvest
Drinking dirty and contaminated waters
Young ones dyeing of diarrhea
Aged ones dyeing of dehydration
Youth shrinking of pathetic pains

Don't you think it was before the olden days
That terrorist visited our villages
Our oil subsided
Water reduced
Famine increased
Souls decreased
Politics captured fear
Fear captured the weak
Politic became the game of death
Death raced in races of our race
Hope lost
Dreams quenched
Destinies truncated

Was it before the olden days
That corruption became the morsel we consume
Bomb blast became the trumpet we hear
Terrorist terrorizing our territory
Bandits banding in our bank
Banking in the halls of bankrupt
Basking in the basket of bask stairs
We now sleep with one eye open
They now stand with one hand akimbo

Don't you think it was before the old days
We were told that transformation will take place
Or was it a forlorn promise
That made many lag in the promise
They swept the promise under the carpet
And mounted a golden seat on the carpet
Sitting on the seat
But we sat on floor of anarchy
Melancholy rule our vestige
Our prestige made hostage
Freezing like a belated freezer

Was it before the olden days
That we were told about
Change emerging with range to dwell on our sage
To cut off our chains of pain
The change we still await
100 days past we haven't seen the change
Instead our chains of pains are increasing
Yet they sat on a bank
Basking in basket of ecstasy
While we mourn in basket of poverty
I thought it was before the olden days all these took place
Now I know before the olden days
Is an irony which means after the olden days.

©Copyright
#Sunsampaul d Philosopher
04/10/15
6:05pm