By James Eze
sit-at-home
the streets are lonely again today
traffic lights blink with eyes swollen with grief
and the skies are dressed in translucent clouds
to mourn our sudden loss of freedom
silent market squares, empty classrooms
deserted bus stations, forlorn playgrounds
foreshadow a future festooned with pain
for a society tone deaf with hate
and so we sit-at-home
for one man in chain is a million-consciences in jail
a distraught mother hugs a casket
her son took a bullet & rode the sunset
convinced that nations are born in tears & blood
& life in bondage is life deferred
and so we sit-at-home
gnashing our teeth to rhythms of sorrow
seasoning every minute with bitterness
since conversations cannot heal the cracks on our wall
for who mourns when a city dies
it’s streets and alleyways swollen with blood
it’s monuments made a bonfire to shame
it’s young too purblind to see tomorrow
who hurts when a nation dies
when elders speak with bifurcated tongues
& children are drunk on wrong philosophies
who cries when they kill for their gods
and so we sit-at-home & count our losses
because injustice sits on our heads
in a land where the present leaves the future in ruins
nobody cries when a country dies
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