We call it ‘awuff’,
Free gifts
Surpluses sometimes
Free loaders like a whole lot
Some people say it runs the stomach
It is free, they won’t stop loading
Till the stomach is filled up with junks
Most people clamour for such things
They say, after all, life is free
Even the air we breath
So they accumulate, amass and collect
Freely from those who give the needy
For givers are said to be rewarded more
And blessed than those who receive
For those with reservations
Giving different reasons to say no
Like beggars, they feel branded
Reduced in dignity and status
The snare may lie there
In a trap set ominously
To force a compromise
To further a wrong
Gifts are not free
When conditions are attached
Like giving a yam tuber to a would be voter
Or brown envelope to the news reporter
To kill a true story and pervert justice
Beware of some aids
The virus kills the beneficiary
Comments
now that's an interesting
now that's an interesting read. visual and contemplative, makes a thinker of me. thx!
They won't stop loading...
the outline of this piece show a bloated stomach. the side view depicts a pot belly and the pun in aids and virus. I am glad you like it. Thanks and best wishes.
tr
Carmina Figurata!
I had to go back and read again. Sorry, I'm kinda dense. Strong poem and good to see someone messing with the form.
wesley