African Literature and Lifestyle in One Pot
I’ve left the pain, it’s the sorrow that calls my name. I’ve left mourning, it’s the ones I left behind that keep me from moving. So I write. Perhaps they can hear me from the other side of this sheet. Maybe, just maybe they’ll let…
The struggle is between the person I was and the person I have become The battle rages every morning I stare at my reflection in the mirror and all I see is a beautiful, enchanting ruin Every morning when I wake up In that brief…
THE BOY CHILD Who would save the boy child from his hidden pains? What could set him free from societal shackles and chains? Inability to express to the world his emotions, The boy child’s life opposes several wrong notions. Smiling but crying inside Lively…
Pen to paper, I’ve lost the words To tell To say To describe This abstract feeling that comes When I know that I really don’t Know anything at all; When I look at beauty and all I see Is sadness. When I look at the…
My Father’s Children My father’s children were fools, the spectacle of my village people. We danced naked under the first rains, savoring the sweet smell of the cloud’s tears on the dry parched skin of the village floor. Our little feet stomped on the muddy…
Darkness used to be cold, but now warmth is all I feel In this enclosed shell of mine. Madness used to drive me on, but now calmness is all I feel I think it’s a sign, I might go, soon. I was used to asking…
