You’ve most definitely seen her here when she wrote Angst for A Twist in the Tale. Let’s say, from hence you’ll be seeing a lot of her on this blog.
Teleola, please…
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Nigeria
We gather our garments by their hems
and race against kin.
We reach for greatness, following Udeme
making stepping stones of fellow skulls
whilst preaching of bonds and love lost.
We pull down and destroy with honey-filled lips
drawing blood with enamel-armed gums.
Eastern swindlers, Western thugs
Northern terrorists, Southern militants.
Each for himself, each with heme-stained hands.
We take incessantly, eating what we have not cooked
and like an ocean never full.
We fill our homes with excrement
and then seek refuge in another’s.
Prisoners to our passions.
Slaves to our sins.
Tied to our troubles.
Nigeria.

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Peace. as per usual.. 🙂