Not My Tale To Tell

Nkem was beaten black and white, She stole tomatoes in the market When she could not afford to buy one To make stew for her hungry children. Not my pot of soup any way That she was beaten by the crowd, She was given what she wanted To chew at the prodigal market. Femi was arrested for talking Too much of the first class man Who travels like a river to Rome When chaos and fire is in his house. How is that my pot of soup? Why would he dip and dip his fingers Into another's open anus in public? Has he no anus of his own to caress? Many queue day and night at The petrol station to buy fuel, But they could not buy any; Empty they went with their kegs. How does that concern me any way That they were no petrol for them? It is change to chain we all wanted, Everyone would be bitten by ant someday. Mama Obi was sacked yesterday At the office, she said her boss Wanted to change everything in the office Including his corrupt pant and dirty shirt. What is my business with that nonsense? She was sacked because of Change! Change!! We all sometimes need change to change Our lives where it hurts us so much and dearly. Hassan said that darkness now Governs their street than before And no one is showing concern On the improvement of the situation. Not my tale to tell of darkness, I still have a hurricane lamp home Greatly positioned on the roof top And my soup is still boiling on fire. Every home has a walking problem; Problems that birth death in heart. We all have a staring gun problems Birthing tribulation to ourselves to doom. (C) John Chizoba Vincent Voice Of Vincent 2016