Sadness
Life is a surreal tease,
memories of the past uglified by the realities of the present
the rebel uncle, dark and tall who dies emaciated and wasted,
dragging his love towards the horror of the grave, Uncle, I see your face,
the cool mangrove of Lagos Street that hosted the intellectuals, artistes, actors of the eighties,
gone forever, encased in my amnesic mind.
My handsome Uncle, divine and cool, now elderly and broken
Peter and Betty, handsome and pretty
We used to jump and walk you as you left Bolori,
Peter you died twisted, swallowed by the god of Iron,
your intellect, hopes and memories faded into the abyss of nothingness
I always remember you.
Dad I was so unkind to you, yet I miss you more than anyone I have ever known
Life is an illusion, the beauty of today is the horror of tomorrow
the hopes of today turn into the regrets of the morrow.
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