DECADENCE By Ozota Gerald Obinna


When the rain
comes tomorrow
carrying your house in its belly, do not cry
foul play,
for when it did same to the masquerade,
you said it was a cleansing rite.
Your children today are scattered abroad
with no place to call their root,
they feed on lust and dote evil ___
their stomach habours decaying gases
of their culture,
if they return, they shouldn’t cry foul play for the debris
left of their homes,
for the wind that took them abroad
came for their houses too.
Your lands are growing bald,
and weeds swallowing the norms your forebears planted____
when your children come with protruding collar bones looking
for chow and you have nothing to offer;
do not cry foul play,
tell them the drought that once gave you pasture now owns
your lands.

By Ozota Gerald Obinna


Ozota Gerald Obinna writes from Nigeria. He studies at University of Nigeria, Nsukka, He writes to stay happy. His poem Walls was Long-listed in The Nigeria Student Poetry Prize 2020 and his works have appeared in Praxis magazine,Kalahari Review and several anthologies.

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