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Thanks to all philanthropists

A special thank you to all philanthropists
From east to west and north to south;
Up the sky; freely the littlest of birds fly
In such sweet serenity before the eyes
We envied their liberty and less worries
Until we became the characters in such stories.

At different stages, challenges comes in different forms
What we make of it matters, as either sadness or fun,
You see these tears, it falls from every eyes
But honestly, if the rich also cry
For the poor, what is there to live for?
A question we asked several times before.

Then our ghetto dirty lives were a truck load of pain
And death a tranquilizer, our wretched breath gain
Even in urban, death is a debt breath pays afterwards
Hence, the street we chose to suffering in this world
On a platter of gold, by you we were served and saved
We owe you our lives and everything we have.

Growing up, we thought of you as some kind of god,
And a creator, redesigning the whole wide world
Eradicating hunger, pains, sorrows, poverty
Sufferings and all forms of deformities.
If only this crazy world had more of you
Sufferings would have been a term we had no clue…

It was right at the junction of lost hope,
Where we had chosen an elevated floor and a rope
And just after tearily reciting our last prayer
Out of the blues came your pull by our shoulders,
From the rose flowers, you pulled out the thorns
Giving us a million more reasons to carry on.

©2021 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

In the hands of the pigs

Down the streets, I see fierce men in blacks
Throwing punches and spraying bullets back
On both the dead guilty and the innocent
From such grief no man becomes a saint…

Down the streets, I pass everyday
There are a lot my eyes see and lips can’t say
If I were to write, I will run out of pages
It has been on since the rock of ages…

I see torn rags, I see fat pigs, I see hawks
I see ugly vultures perking clean rotten foods
I see little ants queueing for shrunken and fat pigs
Though most times the results are rigged…

At the other end where the grasses are green
I see different faces but the same within
For as they wear the authority band
The little ants and gullible expect a hand

A helping hand, but the route to end injustice,
Alongside corruption and malpractice
Causing sufferings to large extent
And institutionalized Government,

Making every under the roof look so dumb
As well as embezzlements in all forms,
Are the same routes fat pigs themselves pass
On a regularly on their way flying first class.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

World leader’s strings

I am only a girl
And I have been through hell

He holds me so closely
Caressing me dearly…

His grip is firm and huge
In him I seek refuge

I am like the musical
Cruel case of Africa

Playing to master’s touch
Whose kneel I made my couch

Symmetry in Nature
Altered in the future

Fetching nothing but pain
“Ti’s for the best”; he claims.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Hunger, the true virus

At times I wish, hunger hits hard
On the rich too, so they understand
And feel the cruel pains, of lost souls
Who before turning ghost had no home.

At times, I wonder why the world is bias
Behaving like everyone inhale special gas
Whereas we are all one and the same
Living on earth, with various prides and shames.

Upon hearing pandemic, we all turn cold
Terrified that curtains will abruptly close
Whereas daily people untimely kick buckets
All because they run on empty stomachs.

©2020 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Dark Christmas

While your kitchens
Ooze fried chickens
And groceries
Are tall storeys
This Yuletide
I am that child
Compelled to cope
Having no hope
For baked salads
On Christmas day.

While your wardrobes
Are filled with clothes
As you complain
Of colours plain
And type of shoes
To match new gowns
This Yuletide
I am that child
That have nothing
But sad outing.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Years of Buharism

Oh Nigeria, my Nigeria
Do we have to be rooted here
Is it bad to have faith in you
When denial is long over due.

We prayed for growth to be better
But tides of grief spread all over
Washing our faiths, replacing hopes
With bullets and some suicide ropes

We prayed for capable leaders
The ones who would be our Messiahs
But we got pins in our buttocks
Hurting much more than we can talk

Dead butterflies in our stomach
Breeds sufferings we used to lack
Our eye sockets are wet and soaked
With force of tears that erupt rocks.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Dead before honor

I have got a mix of cold and fire,
So in need of a million naira,
To help fulfil innermost desires

Sadly I keep getting failed promises
My calls they all deliberately miss
Should I die now, there will be a bliss

Many would cry for me childishly
When am laid, they would smile sheepishly
Feasting and spending so lavishly.

©2019 http://vinzpoetry.WordPress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

City of hardship

I grabbed a bull’s horn
It is no more fun
Please should God return
Let Him remember me
Devil don’t feel
Pains life got on me
Dried tank in my car
Same brush, the same tar
Living in Africa.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Nigeria: Eating flesh, gifting bones

It pains so hard
That we still find
Folks eating sand
In a rich land.
Disparity
Between parties
Pose such pity
In my city.

Poverty sketch
Hits highest pitch
Those who eat flesh
Gift bones and preach.
It pains so hard
That we still find
Folks eating sand
In a rich land.

Many reach heights
To detach sight
From fingers that
Fed them in past
Disregarding
The beginnings
And forgetting
Humble gardens.

Seems the rich aim
At sending rain
To combat strain,
But make more gain;
And, not to sink
They kick, poor pick
Demeaning rocks
Praising rich folks.

©2019 https://vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

Nigeria: Plight of the graduates

Mother…!! are you in deep sleep
Can’t you see, reality
Is pumping loads of hardship
To the land, called Nigeria.

The fruit hangs at the topmost
But educational system
We all had depended on
Has provided a broken stem

Millions gets to the forest
Only to see empty bushes
Fruits on trees are illusion
Going red on extinctions.

More people are signing to
Modern slavery, anything to
Leave the shores, of Africa
….Who would we put the blames on…

©2018 http://Vinzpoetry.wordpress.com
Onyeche Vincent Onyekachukwu

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