One day soon

One day soon, our pens will no longer
be melancholic, hoping for change.
Soon our ink will dance on paper,
happy that the days we longed for are here

Those who profited
from a sad narrative- a tale of woes
will search for the words to describe
the joy on our children’s faces

They will sit before
blank sheets and black pens,
praying for the words to describe
our new streets of gold

One day soon, our pens will no longer
be melancholic, hoping for change.
Soon our ink will dance on paper,
happy that the days we longed for are here
(C)Olamide Oti

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For Baga

The world watches
The harmattan winds brought a new hardness to their cold hearts
Our children are slain in broad daylight
Fathers shot as they shield their children from the messengers of death.
Mothers burnt alive saying their last prayers
Destinies that will never be fufilled
In a country where lives are squandered
Where politics is more important than humanity
The world watches
Waiting for the message of hope from the lips of our leaders
A message of comfort
But instead we get pictures
Pictures tell a thousand words
Telling us they we are just pawns
In the grand scheme of things
It doesn’t matter whether we die or not
We are dispensable, disposable and worthless.
I’m not sad. I’m angry
The world watches, unabashed.
(c) Omolara Kolawole, 2014