THE SILENT PEN
I hear the scribbles
of those silent whispers,
tracing out, long forgotten history
of our people.
A blessed country!
Thronged with numerous tribes.
Laced with vast cultural heritage.
I hear the scribbles
of those silent whispers,
scribbling away into the night.
Summoning tall dreams,
Of freedom.
Lagos bridge leading to far away North, to agro existence on buried treasures.
And yet we ask our Shepherds.
Will you keep the promises,
if we let you lift the mandate,
away from our voted hands?
I hear the scribbles of those silent whispers, enacting laws and issuing court orders against cobwebs of greed.
Let the scribbling pen,
Scribble us unto success.
And treat the scrofulous ones
to the consequences of our their misdeeds.
H. M. Khaliph (Aug 2018)
