Our Pain At The Peak

Source: Mr. Adeola Ikuomola

The wings are like bed spread
Sanitising the sky of dread
Giving the clouds a pull
Like hippos in a pool
With the rare singles
Life is in the soft jingles
The child is born for elegy
Caught with the divine energy
Their old highways are broad
Declaring to us all: no road
Dead tongues to speak
Our pain at the peak
The urn is the proof
Our bread is on the roof
Every morning is a new page
Showcasing our rotten rib cage

SOURCE: The Nigerian Voice (local news)