Magical Poetry

Magical Poetry
Micheal Ace

Sunday, 2 October 2016


It was song we sang
When our mama gave birth
It was song we sang
When the same baby died
It was song we sang
When papa married a new wife
Who called mama a barren
In the lyrics of the same song
We sing songs
In the studio of our dreams
So they can come in dews
To wet our burning flesh
We sing songs
While we hang on rope
To die a lonely death
In dying company of life
It was song Àwélé sang
To send me back home
In the canoe of humiliations
And on the sea of poverty
It was song I sang
When I returned to her
That I may be poor today
I shall be rich tomorrow
This is another song
That reminds me
Of how many song I had sung
So one day, I shall learn to sing
Songs that won't make me cry
Songs that won't make me smile
Songs I won't remember
Songs that won't remember me
If only we know what songs are
We will have murdered the choirs

Micheal Ace

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