My Heritage

Emptiness the best illustration of our beginning Heights and depths of water Corrosiveness of fire None can comprehend That's how we started *Meerah Zubairu* In that scattered house of nothingness, Except of course for an ekuke dog called happiness, There laid a pathetic figure of hopelessness And the only thing to tell that this figure still had life was her deep midnight black eyes... That figure was my Mother. *D Young Writer* From the regional part of northwest There my identity reflects ray in clusters like floret I glory in the beauty of my hood It's indeed a flory portraying good Ethnography dare not to depict it's awesomeness *Meerah Zubairu* She became an hopeless sight ever since Dad died: You see, he wasn't just her husband, he was the owner of her mind And at last she 'cracked '; Starting to talk words that was,were, weren't,is,will and won't be... Sure it was disheartening and I was constantly humiliated,but hey! Some of those words made me. *D Young Writer* My heritage a mnemonic to be induced by different regions Fiction be trodden upon My heritage birthed within me as agility running like waterfall Giving life and fixing all odds to the succeeding The real essence of my existence *Meerah Zubairu* People looked at the deceased's picture and remarked on how we look alike And how like her I might end up being a big talker maybe with mike. Of course I would smile physically and plead 'the blood of Jesus' spiritually. Even though she was my mother, I couldn't deny the fact that she was mad... But then,words are powerful and they were already beginning to bear roots in me. *D Young Writer*