Ade and the Boy
Be
not ruffled,
The
ire of time becomes,
The
ghosts of reflections song.
Ade,
The cunning old Cat,
Bulged
with his pious hat,
The
legs that seemed lazy to run,
Faded
in the eye of a pointed gun.
Ade
duly meets boy.
Boy
is not some ruffian wonder,
His
muted heist makes me wander
But
boy knows the song of the slum,
Boy
is part of the dusty sum.
Boy,
gun in hand, Meets Ade.
Ade,
government stooge,
Boy,
government’s deluge.
Product
of greed’s hysteria,
Meets
the pride of the “area”
Conversation
runs mild,
The
dichotomy of reflections
Boy
is from the wild,
Ade
has long lost the actions.
ADE:
Young
menace, duly noted
Lazy
, conceited, short roads needed,
But
these haven of lights and glee,
Were
not made from just one me.
BOY:
I
know a thousand days in your ruins
That
gathers all that the world gives
Bewitched,
the spiraling ruins,
Withdrawn
from the stable your tortured cry heaves
ADE:
This
land has long been cast
A
glorious time in past.
I
traded not its despair,
I
only try to repair.
BOY.
O
what wonder you will be
When
loaded pits are your dream
These
dreams of scars are just me,
You
do not know my scream.
I
wail with the voice of a barren foil
I
am the body, you are the parasite,
I
build, I work, I plan I toil,
But
all you do is carry inspite.
ADE.
It
is easy to colour the glass,
With
fiery claws to scare the cat,
But
the smartest student in the class,
Knows
the glass is more than that.
I
am the conundrum of a past
That’s
muddled in distrust that’s cast
From
years of tortured misery
Burning
in the sands of your treasury.
BOY.
What
will you do for me?
O
land of my father’s pride.
Would
you become or would you be?
The
moral of wasted years applied.
ADE.
I
am scattered in debris,
I
am the orgy of different desires,
The
road to the song you agree,
Is
caved in tortured fires.
BOY:
The
greatest question
One
I always pondered
Is
the question of action
That
I wondered,
I
have pillaged my hope in the greed of myopic men
My
dreams are always tattered now and then,
This
road to tomorrow that seems a mirage,
Never
ending , always meddling in the collage,
Of
martyrs never heard in freedom’s tale,
Where
thieves are honored with pious wail,
And
honesty is all but a cloud,
of
dreams no longer allowed,
This
city of scavengers that rises,
Hunting
my heart before it arises,
This
room of pillaged slaves,
Who
fit into spurious graves
And
tomorrow is all but a song,
That
never comes along,
For
we are stuck in eternal today,
Forefathers
have ripped our fathers,
And
our fathers await to oust our feathers,
No
more can we fly
We
must wait the by and by.
I
ask this question.
What
will you ever do for me?...........
Ade
stares into the cloud,
The
rain soon comes to pout,
The
gun hoisted up in his face,
Tells
the tale of boy’s ace.
ADE:
You
can start by dropping the gun
And
dwelling on your pun
For
the fool may always be brave,
But
he ends in a wasted grave.
It
is true that we are constantly repeating yesterday.
Tomorrow
is yesterday, that we thought was today.
The
running was just a walk
Yet
we still remain………
Ade
and boy,
Fractious
Frictitious
Dialectical
dichotomies,
Today
the gun stands between
Tomorrow
there may be no reason.
It
is the reason within,
That
can lead us to reason.
Ade
is my Nigeria
I
am the Boy.
I
ask him these questions
Trying
to find my dream.
by elijah peter
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