POETRY: Friday Line 51: THE CRY!

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POETRY FRIDAY LINE 51: THE CRY!

THE CRY
Sun burn is the little thing we face here
The disappointments are minor problems
For we toil day and night
To get little or no pay

The sound of our feet
Moving through the hot tars
Brings the song of laziness
For we claim we are toiling

Inside us are hopeless thoughts
Outside us great smile of deceit
To comfort and adapt amidst others
we claim we are out of slavery

We are in a new level of penury
Peanut exchanged for serious jobs
Bruises like tattoo on our skin
Our aching bodies lie on our bed of rock

The kings of the offices work less
But get the lion share
The grasses of the field become our friends
Can life be less miserable?

Wounds are now like hairs on our skin
Can life be good?
We are still looking up to the brighter side
And the rising of the sun of hope.
– Isaiah Oduobuk

BETRAYAL
I could climb up the highest mountain
And for your sake go down the deepest ocean
But I could only see in your hands a catapult
Firing out evil bullets in my direction.
– Ikise Atabang

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