BY GLORIA OKOYE
This is a letter to the streets
To the ones that put in the work
To boast among their peers
To the ones
That grew up thinking
That they are unstoppable,
To the ones that walk in no fear
This is a letter to the streets,
It is understood
When a mind is made up
Nothing can deter.
Going back and forth
Would only waste time
But please for the sake of hearts,
Please take a minute of stepping down
Just for the ears to hear.
Sweet child
For you came from a womb,
Knitted by creation or science
Whichever you believe.
Know what are the end results
Of the path you choose,
Will directly or indirectly
Impact generations,
Not only yours
But also among your foes and peers.
Karma waltz with the rulers of the netherworld
And governors of torture,
Karma gets intimate with unseen sirens
Of justice,
It cheerfully feasts with the family of fate
And intertwines with the threads of Mysterious disaster!
Dear child,
Even if you were spared the earthly judgment
It’ll get to your loved ones.
Even if you are not here to witness,
Your name shall be cursed
From even after you hit
Rock bottom.
The foul aftermath will seep
Into your family tree
Because,
Price shall be paid in full,
In this realm
There will be always
Generational compensation.
