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