By: Samuel Olowolayemo

The seeds of our past choice lay barren, on

marsh,  like the infertile eggs of mother hen.

We have turned round the seasons of the year, but

they’ve refused to grow, we made the wrong choice.

A new chance is bequeathed upon us. 

Let’s chart a course for the future we want. 

Our tragic lots rest on the choice we made

Remember, we were here to decide “now”.

Shall we because we’re stricken, homeless , run 

Into a wild den for an heritage? 

We’re there, where we left and made no progress 

The time has come to see beyond today 

We were here, when our conscience was stolen