Hands that Toil
Hands that toil,
In the soil,
Fingers that grip,
Harvest to reap.

Eyes that weep,
No sound or beep.
It boils, it brims—
Dreams fueled by hope's oils.

Her hair, it flares,
As time ticks, prepare.
Hatred's glare,
But love, the heir.
Spare the stare.


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Hearts of Mercy
Hearts of mercy,
Smiles like Percy.
Eyes fixed far overseas,
Yet trapped in depths unseen.

A foot each day,
Keeps bullets at bay.
Hopes and dreams replay,
Knowledge breaks away.

The mind, a freeway,
Faith, the doorway.


© Chidimma Mirabel Ugwuozo