Michael Okafor

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Michael Okafor
Friday 26 July 2019

BIRD IN A CAGE

So, in a cage you kept me; a tiny, fancy cage.
Just something to show your friends and brag about,
feeding me only when you felt like it.


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   1793 Views

Michael Okafor
Friday 26 July 2019

HAND OF D

It came at night when men lay awake in death.
A voice; a language written in the night sky,
brilliant as day light.


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   2065 Views

Michael Okafor
Friday 26 July 2019

DEATH

Here I am dragging air through my nostrils
not sure which one would be my last,
they carefully caress my lungs
sending reeling feelingsone only finds on mother's breast.
The wind came whistling nature's thoughts,
it's warm lips gently pressed


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   1986 Views

Michael Okafor
Friday 26 July 2019

My world

This is my world:
Where no one cares but me
A place I wouldn't give up for Tag Mahal
Here, I'm no stranger to darkness
'Cause really that's my only comfort.
Sadness came to me at night in a veil
Whispering words washed in tears
I could not remember what it is she said
But my pillow I believe knows them all.
Maybe this pain is what keeps me going
Knowing that the only one I have is just me
I wish there's a hand holding mine
Or a face to reflect my smile.
But here I'm alone with my thoughts
Sad memories playing in black and white
Maybe I'm enjoying the show
I don't know, I guess my heart won't let me be.


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   1900 Views

Michael Okafor
Friday 26 July 2019

STRIVING TO SUCCEED

Heart thudding, eyes flickering in the moonlight Beads of perspiration spotting my forehead
As I stay awake keeping vigil over books
As though it were my mother's Onugbu soup
I keep battling with sleep as she slowly Seduces me, kissing me softly on my eyes; I am losing this fight
I walk by the broken glass And I saw visions
and saw the person I need to be
These legless critics are trying to teach me how to run
they're like fire, blackening everything above it which it cannot reach
My future I'm trying to preserve
But here I am, in the present
The clouds so gray and gloomy overhead
The wind from my past howling and screaming "Bloody murder",
but my spirit is close to dead
The fog creeping over breaking visibility of
Where I'm meant to be
Don't judge me for I'm really trying to succeed. Maybe we would be wiser if empty heads growled like empty stomachs
For even the mosquito does not get a slap
On the back, until it goes to work.


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   1864 Views

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