Michael Okafor

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Michael Okafor
Friday 26 July 2019


Heart thudding, eyes flickering in the moonlight Beads of perspiration spotting my forehead
As I stay awake keeping vigil over books
As though it were my mother's Onugbu soup
I keep battling with sleep as she slowly Seduces me, kissing me softly on my eyes; I am losing this fight
I walk by the broken glass And I saw visions
and saw the person I need to be
These legless critics are trying to teach me how to run
they're like fire, blackening everything above it which it cannot reach
My future I'm trying to preserve
But here I am, in the present
The clouds so gray and gloomy overhead
The wind from my past howling and screaming "Bloody murder",
but my spirit is close to dead
The fog creeping over breaking visibility of
Where I'm meant to be
Don't judge me for I'm really trying to succeed. Maybe we would be wiser if empty heads growled like empty stomachs
For even the mosquito does not get a slap
On the back, until it goes to work.


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