Our stony veins gushed out blood in disdain;
Wetting our sorrowful lives like rain.
Every time, now, again and again.
We hawked our success to get fame;
Our nightmares we only see as games,
As we punch the cloud, so our lives won't
remain the same.
Even when our tears become flames
This lonely road we passed through,
Each time we speak, we labelled it to be true,
Day by day we launch through,
To make sure the journey won't make us rude.
Our children dashed their feet on deadly ground,
After passing by so many rounds,
They felt they endured a pound,
That traveled on the road, when thieves are around.
©Sunsampaul Egwu Philosopher
Sunsampaul4globe@gmail.com
+2348180861170
20:07:16
03:58pm
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