Hope for Sale

Waited this long days for change

On this personal Robben Island I lay

Waiting for freedom from my weary thoughts

The one which has wrapped me like a mummy

Waiting to be scurried into the mouth of the pyramid

Wished so long for the ray of the horizon

Something new, even if it’s scotching dead

Wishing to be seen to make a move

To roll of over to the other side they say is green and plum

Wishful thinking of a man with a pouch filled with air

Wonder why for once earth can give and not take

It blesses us with days and night to count our days

Wondering if moments captured can be traded for more

This side of the coin is oblivious of the world

Wonderfully furnished are my thoughts about dusk

Will I be able to hold on to my illusions?

The fuel that moves my imaginations

Would it be fair to sum it up and just equate all?

After all, we will have visit Uncle Joe’s Hall down town

Wouldn’t it make sense to put Hope on Auction?

                                                              -Omo-Ekun, Ilu-Nla