We rested our barking backs
On the wooden arm happiness,
Happiness that will vanish
At the sight of a fuming cigar.
.
We cracked cracking jokes,
Those of Ajoke and her friends,
We fell into ditches full of waste,
The night pitied our old age.
.
Ajani was a good drummer,
Drumming while we danced,
Dancing away our responsibility,
We danced, again and again.
.
We sang songs that stung,
Stung our Today in our sight,
Songs from underaged lips,
We buried many more sips.
.
On our way home we missed;
The play of the moon and her six-stars.
On the lonely paths of our lives,
Our home looked far, very far.
.
Far,far,f—-a——r, we trekked,
Balancing our weight with breeze,
We walked and warr(lk)ed until…
We passed home.
.
The Future met us
In the gutters of our Yesterday,
Then we knew our Today
Started Yesterday.
.
*Omuti: Palmwine drinkard.
Ajoke and Ajani : An African (yoruba) name.
Good work. Full of pitiful imagery. The drunk’s life, lacklustre…