By Chidi Anthony Opara
Daybreak.
Dew-like drizzles
Dulling the bright demeanour
Of this budding August break day.
Drizzles,
Downpour.
Fore flavour of Ramadan feast.
"Today is the eighth day of August"
My mind murmured.
The dull demeanour of this August day
Peeped into my den,
I peeped.
A congregation of choristers
Converged,
Besieging my den door.
"Today is the eighth day of August in 2013 AD",
"Today marks your fiftieth year on earth",
"Today marks your golden jubilee on earth"
The choristers chorused.
"This jubilee is not golden"
My mind murmured.
I mused,
My mind meandered the maze of miseries.
Hordes of hapless citizens
Hamstrung by unholy homilies
Huddle in public places
Homeless,
Hungry,
Angry,
Hunted by self-anointed holy warriors,
Hunted by militants of all manners.
My mind moved to Biafra,
To other vanquished lands.
My mind gazed at the genocide.
This jubilee
Indeed is not golden
My mouth murmured.
(This poem is in commemoration of the author's fiftieth birthday anniversary. All Rights Reserved).
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