The Sun rises, but creeps on the skyline,
Breaking the East with a sad, mirthless shine.
Sunrise rays once crowned these ancient peoples,
And swept their green lands with waking ripples.
But the children of this great Land have run,
And those that remain want to flee her shores.
For their dreams died - killed the days they were born -
And on their cruel graves they live like a curse.
Their mothers were raped in the spoilers’ wake,
Fathers murdered at the conquerors’ stake,
Old survivors just live out their last days,
And the East’s sunrise dims her golden rays.
But Freedom shall stoke the East yet again,
To free our dear Land…to free our children.
Oct 01, 2019
THEIR DREAMS DIED
About This Poem
Style/Type: Structured: Western
Review Request Direction:
What did you think of my title?
How was my language use?
What did you think of the rhythm or pattern or pacing?
How does this theme appeal to you?
How was the beginning/ending of the poem?
Is the internal logic consistent?
Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
Hi,
Welcome to the site! Strong poem
you've began with, thank you for sharing.
Great content (to write about, not to live
through).
If it were mine, I'd make the title reflect
the place ... just a suggestion
nice poem
and there are a few other poets on this site from Nigeria who have written about the insanity of the place, as well as the proud cultural past. We are rooting for you, as we are for ourselves in the current hate filled landscapes of Europe and America.
Most of the poem is descriptive, telling us about what's going on. But there are two very important things missing from this poem. The first is ... You. We already know what a fucked up mess it is there,how do you fit in it? The second is me asking how will freedom come, what is going to happen to make this future ring true. Just saying it will happen is not enough- where lies the spirit of freedom and justice in your war torn corrupt place where everyone is trying to get out? You must have hope, and be part of the world. As Soyinka said recently in an article I read "There's either one humanity, or there isn't" How do we make this humanity happen?
HE-DINOSAURS
Dear woman, notice you the dinosaur?
Like fire-belching dragon he is no more.
And curiosity buffs still hunt their bones
That had hid in deep earth and beneath stones.
After them still live their he-dinosaurs,
Whose scarred footprints scourge your weaker landscape
With rape and beatings that beset our shores,
And they will nature’s next selection scrape.
But he-dinosaurs are yet on the run,
Nor must we wait till nature’s course is done,
But hoist the law where’re their cleaved hooves tread,
Till their bones lay as their ancestors’ laid.
Stand proud, oh woman, like the queen you are.
Now, may we your un-bonded talents share?