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I looked up, there’s no sky
I looked, there’s no land
I listened, sweet melodies were sigh
My stomach sang one, a bizarre brand

My eyes strained, rays found no rest
Scourged by the lost sweat rivulets to the crest,
The soles that died on the thorn-studded tracks
Hoping at the end, sun could sleekly wax
But there’s no sky, let alone the sun
I had my wide-bladed hoe, but no land
I began to withdraw cash without cheques
And breathed by launching financial wrecks
One day, trumpet sounded
My home changed; ceaseless pain abounded
Rivets, fleas, pasting and pungent odour
Became bosom friends I must on end endure
As a victim of gannet leaders who

Emmanuel Ejike Abraham.  


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