The cock crows always to herald a new day Turn, roll, stretch, yawn Some of us are asleep by then Others rise right before the crack of dawn. Thaddeus wakes to a black sun – A constant reminder Of what he will never have For sound and touch and hearing and taste Were the only gifts given. It appears Providence was in haste, To set him free, and even In exchange for his mother. Oh well, creak, thud, whimper. Rustle, snap, crack I woke up to a red sun With fears confirmed And tears too heavy To flow. Instead, my monthly Sheds yet another life I was sure would grow This life, still beautiful Beautiful dead moving parts Of me. We wake to a brown sun To yet another dusty day of toil With aching backs and Ankara soiled By years of sacrifice and misplaced trust. Living off stipends of pity From those who have long trampled us in the dust. Felix woke to a grey sun Hidden in cloudy skies Rubs crusty eyes Tired from frustrated cries More tired limbs scoop bowl after bowl Of water Washing away yesterday’s woes Preparing him for yet another Hands too weak to clasp in prayer And so back into the cruel world, he returns To be battered and bruised still As email after email Drip puddles of poison And he pops Prozacs like tic-tacs To mask the bitter taste of his own reality. Binta wakes up to a blue sun As the radio wafts stale music, And stifles what little air is left in a black room Beaten in the dark But more pummels have been made to her soul, By the stranger who snores beside her A new day beckons to bend her still Till she breaks in submission. Titi wakes to a white sun, Sits up and stretches Careful not to break the slashes Which were attempted by frustration, But interrupted at her mother’s timely intuition. A disappointed sigh escapes, because freedom was a few drops away. You see, we lay our heads tonight and every other Hopeful as the lights go out That tomorrow’s sun will colour us better. Maybe we are right for hoping Or maybe not But one thing is sure The air that stays in our lungs Each passing day Will remind us That odds may Change in our favour someday.
About the Poet
Adebola Adesida loves to write poems because they are a magnificent way of capturing the human condition. She believes there is beauty in everything and stories abound around us. This is why she pens them down and shares them with the world. She is an art lover who is passionate about mental health advocacy and sustainable development. To her, life is a journey that must be savoured – every sweet and sour moment.
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