Easy to find the bad in people
Harder to point a good spot in the dirt
The land rummaged with vile and hurt
Misunderstanding turning into battle wounds
Mistakes forgotten
Forgiveness never asked
Hoping for acceptance
Souls all caught in a web
Spiral, when we dance
In a bottle, Gulliver’s romance
Sun color, fake blinding
Tell me more
These walls do speak
Of my history
Of Badagry
Right from the ledge
into wooden moving houses
See!
the cleaner spots
I refused
Easier to continue
Hence, I’ll stop
In the tradition of forever
I seek and keep on
Black skin under the catacombs
Souls buried within encrusted diamonds
On foreign fingers and border necks
To further and protect?
Maybe! Until the day comes
when the beautiful ones are finally born