Thursday, March 31, 2016

Stephen Okereke Micheal writes


Padlock the gate of your heart
Cleansing it within and without
If you still nurse the blind belief
That kings are birthed from golden wombs.

Forget the known and unknown golden eggs
Laid and hatched over the seas
Bread-and-buttered with the masses' spoon
Bearing in mind to come home someday
And continue where their fathers stopped.

Don't gaze at the valley in search of me
White paps are products of black pots
And the ghettos, home town of twinkling stars
Beautifying the sky when the sun goes to bed.

If the throne could be mounted
By a seed sowed and watered in the creek
Who roamed with feet kissing the thorns
The rain can rain again
I can be the President.
Padlocked Heart -- poetess16

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