Fugitive
I am learning how to leave
how to hug many lonely roads
walk through the roads in pains
how to mourn those lost brothers
without feeling guilty-wandering
this is what life has taught me:
how to pack my bag and walk,
walk to the river bank and stay
I've been forgotten in between
fingers, two unequal fingers
i know I am a street shattered,
littered with filth agonies.
finding home in a graveyard
finding solace in the bosom of
emptiness and foilage of vacant
lonesomeness taught me this:
how to name the street a home
how to hold death in my pocket
how to talk to the wind as a friend
building sadness and excitement
when a dice of stupidity is thrown
fools like me look for gold of sanity
these broken poems in my head
hurts, wish I could split them like
Igbos' hearts, like Edo and Delta!
the history created has made me
learn more on how to lose home
in every moon, in every star
but am afraid of what the streets
talk about me in their closet.
Yours Poetically
©John Chizoba Vincent
Copyright © John Chizoba Vincent | Year Posted 2018
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