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African child

AFRICAN CHILD BY ONYECHE VINCENT ONYEKACHUKWU


In riches and peaceful paradise
I’m an African child
Born into the harsh weather
I’m an African child
Who must trench further
I’m an African child
Ashamed, not of coal complexion
I’m an African child
The finest creature
I’m an African child
Proud of my culture
I’m an African child
Filled of strength and power
I’m an African child
Far away from defeat
I’m an African child
Whose smile calms the wild beast
I’m an African child
Who aims at an indefinite limit
I’m an African child
So blessed with talents
I’m an African child
Who fights for justice
I’m an African child
Crying loud by casualties
I’m an African child
Whose blood made the soils
I’m an African child
Who never pray for war
I’m an African child
Renamed by slavery
I’m an African child
Vocalizing the one language of love
I’m an African child
Who dances to the true African music
The world shouldn’t be complete
Without the African child.

 

(C) June, 2009
Author: Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

 Reblogging African child which was written in June 2009 by Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu– 

Morta

Have you ever met Morta, in the forest,
Then you’ll know, life isn’t short but brief.
Her breath is what iron needs to rust,
All females heart beats, faster than men.

Here we float on her temporary crust,
Praying she is light, with a note or a pen.
Have you seen the heads inside her chest,
Medics are there, she’s everybody’s wife.

Hope she’s a beauty with milky breast too,
Death seductive, cutting the threads of life.
Her body must be large, hot and cold too,
Wired with a blade; from a dreadful knife.

Heaven knows, she’s an inevitable path,
That loves violence, conflicts and strife.
Her admirations are both dull and bright,
She’s a version of bad, domestic, wildlife.

However, she’s good to all beams and ray,
Rotating in clubs, as the life of nightlife.
Home she comes, when the blacks are grey
Then shall there be, a room for all of us.

My Parents love

By: Onyeche Vincent Onyekachuku
Title: My Parent Love
Dedicated to : Mr. and Mrs. Larry Onyeche

The love of my parents never elide
They brought me to life, that aside,
In the nide, my needs they provide,
Day and night, they are my aide.

Besides sharing their nucleotide
They planted me by the waterside
To grow taller than all of my kind
Relentlessly, they gave me a yuletide.

They always guide me when I ride,
So I never snide, glide and slide.
Their rules, I often don’t abide
Yet they always stick by my side.

When ruby little me was red outside,
They solve my worries as their pride
They go as far hell, inhaling oxide
Just to give me cream and juice inside.

They are attached to me like an imide,
Holding me tight, they never let me vide.
They protect me, sailing in trouble tide
They are my boldness, they never hide.

Every child

Every child has a name,
Innocence, not a shame

Resilience, always they try
Mood swings, loud they cry…

Limitless, always they feel
Attention, they seek finding zeal

Tenderness, all the same;
Every child has a flame

Burning loud voraciously;
In truth and in honesty.

When we ghost

We all have our individual chance
To share the ranch or break a branch
When we are put on a very hot spot.

We all have fell down on our knees
Pleading to remain young, wild and free
To our youth and needs, wishes we sent.

We all have love that panders some times
Wondering if we are alone in this universe
Only to get blank, in that awlful moment.

We are in a field, our desire is in a glass
Hopes on fire, sets flames across the grass
Leaving clouds behind, in our heavy heart.

We do know, these things we’ve lost in fire
Are fading in tandems over a rotating tyre
But we wish to know, reasons the ice do melt.

We all have asked, what and why we dream
We’ve held doubts, dubbed faith to cream
Pondering what next, when we all turn ghost.

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