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Fates of loo



Just like light to a surface
Casting shadows on all places
Scars, wrinkles and the dents
Of loo all have common end…

If reflections could only speak
So many secrets would be leaked
For every day a child is born
Loo is by the corner hanging on,

Patiently waiting for the time
Sparks of light will cease to shine
Patiently waiting for its torn
In the minds that put dreams on…

Some may spring from carelessness
Others germinate all by chance
Slipping through one’s own finger
To complete recipes of disaster

What an opportunist loo must be
Fighting what was meant to be…
Up in the smoke, throwing towels
Welcoming another troubled bowel

Right on stage, loo seem to call
Giants and ants until they fall,
Its memories are in kicked buckets
And dust covered bodies in caskets…

The grave is where loo has its theme
Echoing from voices of lost dreams
And once another child is born
Like shadows, by their dreams, loo hands on.


(C) 2021 http://vinzpoetry.Wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu
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