By Dele Oladeji
I fell apart, not to fall ever again.
Flickering like a lone star. Voices, I hear.
I wove myself out of darkness,
My cataract infected eyes twitched.
I looked through the window,
Murky smell of thick air oozed.
This is the East End-
When the leaders see our faces
They see nothing. What we feel is poverty
That has drowned our lives.
Where do I start? How do I survive?
These bliss’s that ferociously reap us apart.
The leaders said, with pomp,
‘We’ll improve the economy of our Great Country!
We’ll reflect on medical services for all!
We’ll reform the state of social welfare!’
Mama said, put your head down boy,
Do your very best and let the devil run mad.
What I feel are pains of wretchedness and hopelessness.
Set me free! I need freedom! We all need freedom!
Won’t you come to me soon daylight?
We are the hopeful Voices after the City Lights –
We’ll be free to speak out!
Let me dance one more time.
Let me fall in love with living all over again, dear fucking life!
Wells Street Journal 