The Prize
They were the prize they said
But I saw as a child
How they discarded those they unwanted
Pretty Toyin with her permed hair
Crying over the aged bachelor in her boys quarter
Beautiful Maryam
The newscaster who was a corper
Who had her things thrown out in the streets of Bolori
They were the prize they said
And held the power over tears
And happiness
Over self
Leaving a string of sorrow and sadness
Of pursuit and conquer
Of lust and desire
The prize of chaos
Comments
Post a Comment