A sore soul;
Infused with a piercing pain
But lit a soothing smile
She understands signs and sighs
Of scenes unseen.
Told by the whispering wind
Her eyes,
Confesses deep secrets
True and silent.
The beauty in her pain
Tells a story
On the page of her life,
One written with pain and blood.

The hem of her soul
Is knitted with bitterness
As she finds solace
In shadows now friends.
Musing on memories of dust
Caused by an irresistible lust
Of how her pride,
Was ripped open wide.
Violently taken,
By her own blood.




Time and time again
All I ever did was refrain
From your thoughts,
But staring in my face was a daring doubt
If I could ever erase you
A bitter truth I’ve come to know;
Is that it’s so hard to let you go.

The caress of the breeze with the trees
The sun kissing the flowers with her rays
The sweet nothings of the wind to my ears
All reminds me of you.

You are my shadow
How can I erase a reflection of me?
Our path has been destined
Our hearts intertwined
In all I do,
Every whisper
Every cue,
Leads back to you.

Broken Dreams

Reality  is a mirage
It’s an illusion
In the city of broken dreams
Taunting memories of dust and screams
Inhale these bleeding captions
The beginning of an end
“Mother, I will be a doctor to take care of you.” He smiled at her heartily.
“I’ll build you castles and mansions.”
Endless wishes,
An out pour of innocence and hope,
Promises that faded with tides of time.
He struggles even to make a dime.
In his arms,
She embraced the warmth of death
Because he couldn’t even get her medications.
This reality failed to capture
The beauty he envisaged
The lingering pride,
In his hopes and dreams
Though, his lips stamps a smile
Within lies a bleeding soul
Infused with pain,
That starves his focus
He is only but a shadow of what this reality has left him
His dreams In shreds.



I write with pen the pains of the pained
I paint the future of our hopes and dreams
I wear the shoes of different personalities.
With poetry,
I shed the tears of Mama Sikira
Who her husband batters daily
I absorb the fears and vulnerability of the poor
I know what it feels like to be homeless
Because I am in Nnenna’s shoes
I know the trauma,
Of being raped and silenced
Because I became Ada
Who her uncle molested to his will
I know what it feels,
To have your hopes dashed out.
I tell tales unimaginable
I am that voice in the desert
That seeks justice for the oppressed
I create histories with pen
I share our ancestral struggles and pride.
I tell the story of our pains, fears and happiness
Of all that we are
And all we can be


She is HOPE

She takes me through her world
A description words fail to capture
Bruised, battered
By ugly circumstances
She still stays stout
She ensconces her pain
In the most admirable smile.
Reflecting not her fears
She is a star in the night of adversity.
Her giggles echoes
At the caress of failure
In darkness she envisages light
In pain she embraces joy
She doesn’t think of all the misery around
But the beauty that still remains
Your realities might be her dreams
Yet she holds on
She’s a poor man’s bread
That sieves worries from his head
Far beyond day dreams
In Aristotle’s words,
‘She is a waking dream’
She is HOPE!



You may be gone,
With the dust of the earth.
Your memories in me are never forgone
You may be clutched in the arms of death
Melted in the sands,
My heart lingers on the feel of holding your hands
Though, this pain caresses me
Yet I find solace in your unwavering memories that will always be
Your memories in me lives on still
It was the only thing death could not kill.