A Crumpled Fate
The butcher’s child I am
Who delights in cracking bones
With the claim of calcium therein
Whereas the aliens settle for the meat.
Until the giant Waterloo visited
As a tiny bone got stuck in my
Throat…my eyes watch daily as
More meats keep walking away.
The cloth seller’s child I am
Who delights in wearing rags
With the claim of lack of arrogance
Whereas strangers stacked their rooms
With the best fabrics I possess.
Until the lovely inferno kissed
My roof and took my leftover rags
Leaving me with nothing but tears.
When my teeth loses its transient
Breath and my skin loses its flesh
Then, I will rise to claim my fate
Though crumpled beyond repair.
Bard Tosin Morakinyo