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The Good Old Days
How often do I remember?
The Good Old days
and the Seasons of the scorching heat
before you were the raining days
when the festive seasons draw near
we all wished to receive gifts from our relatives
only if we had passed our exams
and been obedient and submissive to our parents
when the rain beats the ground
we marched on holding the cocoyam leaves as cover
sometimes we go on bare foot
and armed with kernel and fried bredfruits
we walked hours to school
knowing that knowledge is power
for we are ourselves teachers
so sad our mentors are gone
as the great Harmattan draw near
the dust rises and bellows
setting up snow like dew
you are the farmer's weed killer
How can I forget the after diner tales?
we rejoice when it's funny
but we tremple if its a horror story
as none dares to sleep alone
it's a poem of memory
we write what we can remember
when brothers eats and drink together
fear of who can poison are not in existence
for it is fun then
© chim4234
The Good Old days
and the Seasons of the scorching heat
before you were the raining days
when the festive seasons draw near
we all wished to receive gifts from our relatives
only if we had passed our exams
and been obedient and submissive to our parents
when the rain beats the ground
we marched on holding the cocoyam leaves as cover
sometimes we go on bare foot
and armed with kernel and fried bredfruits
we walked hours to school
knowing that knowledge is power
for we are ourselves teachers
so sad our mentors are gone
as the great Harmattan draw near
the dust rises and bellows
setting up snow like dew
you are the farmer's weed killer
How can I forget the after diner tales?
we rejoice when it's funny
but we tremple if its a horror story
as none dares to sleep alone
it's a poem of memory
we write what we can remember
when brothers eats and drink together
fear of who can poison are not in existence
for it is fun then
© chim4234
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