Chief of the Clique Submission by Peter Kwange (Poetry)

My father’s eyes are now blurred
Like a hundred years old memory
While mine are becoming clear
As day.

I need you to raise me up,
Very high,
I want to see the future
When it still tender
Like a blooming bud
Ready to shoot forth.

My father’s voice Is weak and hollow,
You could barely hear a single word
Elude from his mouth.
But here i stand,
With a voice as loud as lion.

Please free me from this jungle.

My father’s bones are becoming feeble
Like a crawling child
I mean,
Every time he tries to walk
He keeps on stumbling and calling

”oh son! Please help me walk ”

I need you to give me a stick ,
I want to lead him to that path
Where he will finally find eternity.

My father’s colours are finished
I need new ones
to paint a world
Free from violence,
Free from hate,
Free from corruption,
Free from rape,
Free from kidnapping,
Free from sentimentalism and
Free from social injustice.

My father has sucked
The remains of his ink.
Please give me a new pen
I want to write a story of
love and hope,
I want history to imprison us
In his cage
And forever after


Follow Peter on CreativeNaija via his handle: @kwange


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