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The Poetic Word

Law of Power

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BY GLORIA O’KOYE

If only these babies know what’s the cost

Of the path they are on.

Would decisions being solid

Override the tears from loved ones.

 

If these babies knew how legal aid

Would play with freedom.

Hit or miss

Crown and defense address each other as friends

Debriefing over recess and lunch breaks.

 

These babies would never be ready for the morgue.

Funeral procession, to preparation, dealing with estate after it all.

Even caskets built to be engulfed in flames

Cost grands,

Like money was meant to be burn away

Like forest fires within periods of false prosperity.

 

No empires are immune to the great fall.

These babies aren’t ready

Even Devils may cry.

The dawgs and demons will crumble overtime.

A lifestyle teeming with expiry dates

Only the wise

Sprinkled with luck,

Got a fighting chance to make it out

In one piece and alive

 

Courtrooms are throwing life sentences

The prison gates rejoice like Christmas gifts.

Yet behind the scenes there is tension.

Responsibility being passed down like hot coals

No one wants to take the collateral damage, once a death in custody gets pinned

Right to the point.

 

Graveyard making profits

So, both don’t want street beefs to resolve.

Social work is just the same

Wolves in sheep’s clothing,

Money is the root of it all.

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The Poetic Word

Would I Still Love You

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BY GLORIA O’KOYE

In faith,

Would the love that  gets publicly

Professed be like

Clanging cymbals when things don’t

Go exactly as they were prayed.

 

Where every detailed fine print of wants

Instead of needs are not fulfilled,

Will the tongue curse more than counting

All the unspoken grace.

 

Would the thank you shape shift

Into why me and hate you.

Would I love you transition into I wish

I never believed in you.

 

Was the spiritual connection

A one way relationship scandal.

In love

If all the materialistic things disappear

Or prenup

Would it survive till death due us part?

 

Would the physical qualities dim down

Like day and night

Be the reason to set sail to foreign lands

To conquer, forgetting what home was

About.

 

In parenthood,

Would the love be tainted if the bloodlines

Was not solely yours?

Would it be unconditional if challenges

Arise?

 

Would gentle or traditional ways help

Resolve conflicts as first words turn

To power struggles as the babies

Grow, would the love not be tested

By time?

 

Would love be the solution

Like how romanticize society made it to be

Like it answers all.

Is Love without action and only fairytale

Filled words truly mean love?

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The Poetic Word

Womb Carriers

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BY GLORIA O’KOYE

Heavenly bodies

As vessels to nurture life.

When giving birth means opening

The gates of Elysium and Hades

In the same sentence,

So many intrusive thoughts continuously

Distract a vulnerable mind from

Concentrating.

 

Weeks of changes,

Misunderstandings from outsiders

Even within close circles.

Exhaustion confused as laziness

Can bring one healthy spiritual beings

Down to their knees in doubt and sorrow.

 

The final phases cause distress,

Except for those that prepared to take on

This psychological test.

Advocating and entrusting that the body

Knowing what’s best.

 

Let no pressure from institutions to write

Off another patient,

For this gift of creation deserves

Premium attention and nothing less!

 

No more allowing negative influences

Dictate a personal journey into these

Sacred moments.

There is only guidance and milestones

But trust that ancestors will guide

Within miracles in teachings.

 

Divine wisdom

In the tree of life that comes after.

Don’t be haste in severing its ties

When hearing the first cries.

Ceremony comes with time,

And allow rest to ease the soul, body and

Mind.

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The Poetic Word

If it was that easy

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BY GLORIA O’KOYE

If problems were so easy to be solved

Why are they still happening?

If creation provided all the necessities,

Why only a small percentage of humans

Have full control of them.

 

Distribution in small rations to the masses,

While a few feast and even treat luxury of

Resources as waste filling up landfills.

If it was so easy for everyone to take

What is needed

Not out of greed, overfilling their pockets.

 

Leaving scraps for those enlightened

By humility and patience.

If problems were so easy to be solved,

Why our young who are strangers

Taking each other lives,

For the bickering between

Older generations that know one another.

 

For wars fought by those that are full of

Life, the people who live and die for their

Beliefs and propagandas being fed,

Only for disagreements to end with

Signatures on paper

After land and water fill with bloodshed.

 

If problems could be easily solved

At a snap of a finger,

And the people truly have a voice.

Why are the powers that retire

Placed as judges in inquests for

Others in current power.

 

Passing down sentences behind closed

Doors, with no community to be there.

All would be well in ideology,

If human nature didn’t add in the factors.

When solutions are already within reach

Yeh, we make things harder.

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