For Leah Shabiru - Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

POEM 136: FOR LEAH SHABIRU

I can't find the words right

To describe Leah's plight.

I hope this little piece of mine

Awakens our voiceless unconcern.

Does she feel giddy?

Does she still cry?

Does she look out the window and heave a sigh?

How long shall this gravity

Hold her down to these rascals?

I know she kicks but in vain

I know she whispers prayers to her God

Or maybe she now doubts his existence.

Does she wish her breathe be gone?

But she's just a teenager

Who dreamt of leaving her deadbeat town

One day she went to chase dreams

The next she was never found

Sunrise and sunset have come and gone

and Leah is still in the devil's lair.

You and I, we eat, we sleep

She's not our own, we care not a bit

Until same fate cross our path

Trample our wives

And rip our hearts

Only then shall we realize in Leah

died our very soul.

- Stefn Sylvester Anyatonwu

#365DaysOfPoetry

#Pengician

#SSA

Enjoyed reading? Please help my blog grow by leaving a comment and sharing with friends.

Thank you.

Comments

Fiction | The Tripod Effect

THE TRIPOD EFFECT The Smiths were unable to conceive children and decided to use a surrogate father to start their family. On the day the surrogate father was to arrive, Mr. Smith kissed his wife and said, "I'm off. The man should be here soon" Half an hour later, just by chance a door- to-door baby photographer rang the doorbell, hoping to make a sale. "Good morning, madam. I've come to...." "Oh, no need to explain. I've been expecting you," Mrs. Smith cut in. "Really?" the photographer asked. "Well, good. I've made a speciality of babies" "That's what my husband and I had hoped. Please come in and have a seat" After a moment, she asked, blushing, "Well, where do we start?" "Leave everything to me. I usually try two in the bathtub, one on the couch and perhaps a couple on the bed. Sometimes the living room floor is fun too; you can really spread out!" "Bathtub, living room floo...

Letter To My Son

Dear Son Try to forget that nothing waits in the dark, raise your shoulder high wave off the frea and step into that lane. Won't you rather be gone in there than stay out here playing the coward? Get up now, son everyone falls. #Pengician #SSA http://bit.ly/2haEhoj

Your Best Is Brewing

YOU KNOW THESE ARE TRUE, BECAUSE YOU KNOW YOUR BEST WORK IS BREWING I had started writing stories, songs, poems, drawing people, things and imagining things, long ago when I was just a young boy. Later, in high school, I was so shy, beaten down by inferiority complex that my writing career was jeopardized. Few years ago, while at work, a colleague claimed I would never be a successful writer and he said this boldly in front of other co-workers. He argued writers are poor and never make it writing alone. After work that night, I walked back home in embarrassment and shame, and a positive anger to prove them wrong. I wrote a very emotional poem that night while staring at the moon and ruminating on what he said. At one point, I gave up writing. I doubted the possibility of my succeeding. Resorted to graphic designs and software development and abandoned my pen. Doubt had won, and thanks to that colleague who cast the spell, I had it on authority that I wasn't good enough to be...

Jaachi Writes

Search This Blog