Pregnant clouds up in the sky
Like the birds we want to fly
But your visage is so scary
You rage makes the sky teary
Our once fit legs are getting atrophied
Our heartbeats already slowed
We need to once more feel the outside
We are tired of being locked inside.
It’s true you cause our barns to overflow
But your excess, our joy it does overthrow
Robbing us of our farms atimes
Swept away are our valuables.
Forced to retire to our various rooms
You deny us of our freedoms
Go away, come when we want
No, stay, your lack might invite drought.
We’ll ignore you and work and play
We’ll no longer wait, you might go away
But if instead you decide to let go
Be mild, there is always tomorrow.
Written by: Alozor Michael Ikechukwu
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
- The Poetivist’s Pledge (wordsrhymesandrhythm.wordpress.com)
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