Song for things

Bayo Akinnola

Biography: A prolific writer and database administrator.

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Wednesday 1 August 2018

Song for things

Beneath these heels you see;
the fine shoes upon my feet
And sweet fragrance of my talcum
Are pains and tears of my daily hustle
Hoping from Marwa to okada to bake my daily bread.

Beneath this glowing skin are wrinkled fleshs
like the back of an old distant tree
I'm a Nigerian youth with sweats amidst my blood
With tears under my smiles
With obligations to make before the sun retires to the west;
Streetwise and always at alert.

Don't mind my laughter, I too cry sometimes,
Just that the tears upon my cheeks
Have been overshadowed by the hope unending.
Don't let my suits and ties deceive you;
They are just my instruments of daily hustle.

I'm a youth,
And not too young to rule
I mean rule my world with the simplest things of life;

Show me who doesn't like good things
Forget about the big things for now
Let's talk about the small things
I want linen to cover my skin
Fish praying on the heap of rice upon my plate
And a roof just to cover my heads.

Me walking on four legs,
Stretched limo aside, a phantom or Rolls
Just a bit of comfort for a living thing like me.

I've got no connection to wire my life with those at the top
So enough of this poem
I need to hop and hustle more
Lest I'm tagged a criminal.
The price I've got to pay in a country
Where Moons and Stars are between dreams.

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Song for things

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