Dilapidated Globe
DILAPIDATED GLOBE
A weary pneuma bleeds
Tears of the miserable
The poverty-stricken tumbledown
The opulence shows gusto.
At the sight of the indigent
But very penurious in helping...
They live in safety isle
But parade in the dilapidated globe.
Masses weep
Agony of the wretched man
Mercy he pleads
To mother earth and nature.
Under a thatched leaking roof
Muds fall at bewitching hours
Petite ice drops like contingent snow
If wishes were horses...
If the night could give way to day...
Friendly enemies of the night parading
What a tragic horror for the cynical
In a dilapidated globe.
An Ijeoma Ikonne's poem © 2021
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