OLD AGE

I grew, finely groomed


Taught the notion of the importance of good family values

Of the need to make something good of my life

A life that should transcend immediate bodily material things

And on leaving home, made society my extended family



And on her behalf, at rooftop, screaming, scribbling, scripting

An occupational hazard that apparently pitched me head on

With authority that thought I should I be humble, subservient

I could not restrain me, so in shackle, they provided me a boarding

Within a wall barely 2.00 x 0.9 metres

And under a coarsish, rough, rouge and nightmarishly plight

A chunk of my life living with moths, lice and mice

My youth defined by the many daily and nightly push-ups

But the push-ups gradually faded with age, leaving time to ramble and ponder

And then, my mind began to wonder fonder

It began with the realisation of the loss of youthful years

Of the years of dreams deferred but later dumped

And once i began to go that path

I went all the down

Sliding endlessly

Not stopping till I hit the bottom

Discovering I had ran out of wind



So one day, tagged but let free

A youth quip; Nobelist, Sir, did you get reformed, you changed

I laughed in an elder’s knowing chuckle

Naaa, said I, African prison don’t reform you

You simply tire of punching wind, exhausted

My fight as a youth was physical, it was a brawl

Now, I’m engaged in an adult wrestle, mentally