From whence I nurse my precious short dream
I rose. This crow to me isn’t clear
Is it not weird at this hour that dims?
The earth is dark, no longer green
The sky and cloud riot in space
And stars’ glittering light have turn’d grin
Courtesy of man’s biblical ways
Mother Earth’s pregnant, what shall it birth?
I ask you – Do you any idea?
The acts of men are footprints of dirt
Lying patiently for each to bear!
This earth promises no haven
I tell you, the reward starts here
And thus passes up in heaven
Will you your ways amend my dear?
Written by: Showunmi Olawale Michael
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
I am a member of the WRR editorial team.