It Could Have Been You (Solidarity Pro Unitate)

O' My God, it could have been me
O' Humanity, it could have been you
Sleeping on a bed cursed with death
Slaughtered like rams in an abattoir.

Those kids must have said their prayers
Some must have recited spiritual mantras
Before giving sleep its right
Oh! O' sleep,why allow death snatch them from you?
So feeble are you to give them away as preys
to demonic vampires whose consciences
are seared by brutality and cruelty.

O' Nation, behold your future
O' Future, behold your nation
Has it any right to one?
Was your throat not slit while you slept?

40 kids,43 kids,59 kids
Ah!see the death figures above
Statistics are confused men
Blame them not
Those are lives in their prime
Cut off before their time.

O' People, rise up and confront the woes-
with claws shredding your tomorrow like papers
Hear me! You, who wear a fedora
Proffer solution to terrorism
and stop misplacing priorities.

O' Fathers,behold your kids grusomely murdered
O' Mothers,behold your kids violently butchered
O' Brothers, behold your sisters badly burnt
O' Sisters, behold your brothers gunned down
O' Mr. President, behold your citizens bereaved !
O' God, behold your gods utterly destroyed!

Call unto fury if positivism is its motive
Tell commiseration to shut up
Order solution to speak up
Call out the lions in every sheep.

This pen desires to write no more
It is not as indifferent as man
It weeps uncontrollably
But just before it faints,
Hear its blatant truth:
"It could have been you"

Written by: Kolade Olanrewaju Freedom


As a foreigner, you wonder what birthed my poem ? Read this saddening news : http://www.theguardian.com/world/2014/feb/25/boko-haram-kills-children-boarding-school

The Journey

The Journey

Off the factory of The Most High
Into the womb of an 'Eve'
Where I metamorphosed while being groomed
for the journey ahead.

Out I came
Clothed in a torn red garment
Crying to disapprove my forceful ejection
From a home best described as an 'oasis.'

As a child, I had fantasy as my pal
Innocence in me demonized reality
No pressure to insure pleasure
I lived like a bird.

Growing up grew responsibilities
Which were like weeds to be uprooted;
Standing up prepared me for an odious journey
But unavoidable it was-
Running away means starting right away.

Eagerness to try the trials
deprived me of sensible patience
But life itself held a cane its hand
A stroke of it for every erroneous step.

Here I am in the present,standing at a crossroad
Mathematically analyzing the length of the next step
Economically calculating the cost of the next step
Philosophically propounding the theoretical features of the next step
Religiously verifying the authenticity of the next step.

The journey!
It begins with a step
It is enjoyable with a step
It is detestable with a step
It ends with a step onto a life elsewhere.

Written by: Kolade Olanrewaju Freedom