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