IN MY GENERATION

Osei Zion

In my generation, there were many

     games; ampe, hide and seek, pilolo and

 

seesaw. You better do chores in

     haste and prepare to 

 

play. The night dresses in moon

     light. And fireflies flew here and

 

there. When it's dark, no one 

     dares. Except bonfire that

 

flares. After the moon 

     sets and all stories are

 

said, we lay to 

     rest. Then pops up the

 

nightmare. In it was a ship

     that needed an

 

anchor. On the thirsty

     waters. Anchor that cut the

 

aorta of the engines'

     heart. Circulation

 

stopped. Oxygenated blood 

     clot. The skeleton of the turbines could be

 

seen. Total blackout set

     out. How could we go

 

out? Benched lanterns got 

     call-up. Their rusted wicks are

 

oiled. Intestines of the rocks

     growl. Indeed Volta was 

 

hungry. No food in her

     pantry. Suddenly, her bed got 

 

exposed. Evaporation was the

     perpetrator. The nightmare 

 

ended us in dumsor.

 

  • Author: Osei Zion (Pseudonym) (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 30th, 2022 06:51
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 20
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Comments +

Comments1

  • Lee Imuede

    This is a beautiful poem that strikes old memories; when life was traditional yet sweet



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