RUNAWAY
Let me tell the tale of this beloved nation The tale of our baffled father and his wayward son For our father had built this giant land Green; unity despite diversity Community; culture All green This is the land on which we dwell
The land on which he had deigned his son to rule
But our father’s son has his head up high Grumbling with pride at every turn His shoulders set And his chest looking up to the sky He approaches his father
I am not satisfied; our land is unproductive
Our land is bare; our land is empty he says
Our father is baffled; for he can only see the land Flowing with goodness waiting to be plucked whole
Our father asks: what do you want, son?
Our father’s son says: You do not have what I want And then he leaves his land, his father’s presence And off he goes, to another land He promises to return, but only after things change
Father says: Who would change things when you are gone?
Now, our father is dead Our giant land is left desolate Dry bones, hovering debris, battered land From the hilltops to the crumbling valleys We await our father’s son’s return Hoping conscience would minister to him But our heart is troubled, it suspects
Our father’s son is never coming back
Imhanguelo Angela hails from Lagos State. She is currently studying English and Literature in the University of Benin, Benin City.
EDITORIAL NOTE: Imhanguelo Angela is a previously unpublished poet; Praxis Magazine Online is delighted to host “Runaway” on our site as her first publication, and honoured to be able to offer her debut poem to our readers.
- TAGS
- Imhanguelo Angela
- Poetry