By Enitan Boluwatife

When my pen bleeds

Emotions of aftermath
of brutality,

I sometimes wish
to drain my ink

For I see not
what is coming.


The pledgers we
took for cover

Came rumbling
on our shoulder

The forces we
sought for defence

Tore our liberty
into shreds.


The clenching
of your fists

Vents turmoil
down our nerves

The welding of
your batons

Runs against our
breaths a millions times.


The clasping of
our palms

Sends no meaning
in your psyche

The trickling
of tears down our faces

Only summons charges
of falsity.


We are yet to
know when we turned enemies

That make us receive
sprays and teargas

For the bullets
and cannons we know

Are relatively
deployed in warfronts.


The unrhytmic
motion of your pintle

On the tender
passage of our girls

Make our souls
seem like an ocean

Where you could
wallow in any desired portion.

Ocean not,not
ocean.Ocean for you,

A drop for us!