LOVE IN AFRICA
I saw the rearer
and I saw the fowls.
As my curious eyes went nearer,
they saw in the game – pretty fouls.
The rearer leaves the fowls un-catered for
in the horrible hands of hunger,
but returns at the call of another Four
promising not to keep away any longer.
The visibly invisible rearer is now visible:
the notorious devil turned an angel,
and feeds the fowls with delicacies, edible,
but a Cain, in the real sense, to their Abel.
Nothing is this but hanky panky.
Yet, the gullible fowls dance to the rhythms
of the droplets of food that gets sandy
but for another Four they become victims.
Oyesomi Oluwatobi Emmanuel
NOTE: This is the brand of love in Africa, between the Ruled and the Ruler. I may not know of that in Antarctica to determine which one is better.
POWERED BY WINSALA MUSES
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