Water for breakfast
Nothing for lunch
Like hungry outcasts
They scramble for much

No salads, no cakes
Just a day's plate
No chicken, no wine
They hunger and dine

"What is for supper?"
"A plate of sand,
Mixed with a little rice"
They feed with hand

They're hungry, they're pale
They don't need much
The soup we call stale
Will provide such!

© Raphael Uzor

I lived a short life.
But with you, it felt like an eternity.
Every moment with you:
Happiness of a child who learned how to tie their shoes.
Ecstasy of a drug that's stronger than *******.
Joy of a father who was reunited with a lost daughter.
Glee of a homeless man who won the lottery.
Every moment without:
Sadness of a child who cannot afford shoes.
Depression of a man who is addicted to *****.
Sorrow of a daughter that is lost without her father.
Melancholy of a beggar whose money goes to lottery tickets, not food.
But, if I were one of those people, it wouldn't matter if I had you.
I know from the moment I touched your hand, and I felt a million chains of burden break within me, that you are the only girl I'll ever need.
(coughing) Remember the night Shirley invited me to her party?
Well, that night, we danced like foxes playing in the woods, never taking a break to talk or drink.
She told me that she loved me after we danced.
She tugged on my shirt, hellfire in her eyes, and told me she was taking me home.
I said no.
I tore myself from her like shrapnel separates from a bomb.
I took my car, and drove home.
I did it for you baby.
Because when I look in your eyes, I see the mother of my baby.
I see the dates we could have. I see the times we could spend looking at the stars and being together in my rusty old car, listening and laughing at the radio men.
But we can't have those anymore.
Baby, I would give up all that I had just to spend one more night with you.
One night where I can tell you more about my love for you.
And how I love how your hair falls behind you.
And how I find your laugh to sound like the giggling of cherubim.
And how I find you to be more perfect in your imperfections.
I want to say that to you...
But... it looks like I already have...
I... love you... like a husband... loves his wife...

For nine months he never knew.
For nine months he never cared.
He was undeserving of the gift of children,
And he was undeserving of his wife.
A heated argument was all it took to start up the court.
Cogs turned in the lawyers. Gears groaned in the witnesses.
Finally, the judicial algorithm decided to give the child to the mother.
He lay as broken as the bottles beside him.
His soul as lost as his career.
Falling into an open void, he could not escape from the gaping maw of depressed solitude.
He felt he loved her, yet his time to show that was over.
Some things in life should not be ignored.
Love those close to you.

O ye who travel the meridian line,
May the vision of a new world within you shine.

May eyes that have lived with poverty's rage,
See through to the glory of the awakening age.

For we are all richly linked in hope,
Woven in history, like a mountain rope.

Together we can ascend to a new height,
Guided by our heart's clearest light.

When perceptions are changed there's much to gain,
A flowering of truth instead of pain.

There's more to a people than their poverty;
There's their work, wisdom, and creativity.

Along the line may our lives rhyme,
To make a loving harvest of space and time.
_
Source:
http://www.writespirit.net/blog/archive/2006/12/03/poemsben_okri

By the law of Finders Keepers, you're rich.
But she didn't see it that way
Did she?

Theft she called it.
But who cares for a few plants?
What are they worth?

Barely anything - A mumbled apology -
Your first born?
Or your life.

So bye bye baby.

Did you hear her cry
From the tower?
She screamed as her hair was ripped

From the weight of that
Enchantress.
But you never knew.

You met a man once,
Who spoke of a girl.
He stood blinded by thorns,

Blinded by her foolishness.
But loved her still.
Sought her still.

You thought such a girl
Must be priceless.
Jewelled seraph you thought.

Little did you realise
Her worth was little more
Than a few rapunzel plants.

She reads
                                          And she sleeps
                                                      Way too much
                                                            ­           It's her coping defence
                                                                ­               When nothing else will suffice
                                                         ­               She needs to get away
                                                       Without actually leaving
                                             Because she's too scared
                                   And too tired
                                            To leave her bed
                                                      So she cracks open a book
                                                            ­     To escape somewhere far away
                                                            ­             And she'll sob for the characters
                                                      ­                       Whose brokenness resembles hers
                                                            ­                                   And then she'll sleep
                                                           ­                                   And have sweet dreams
                                                          ­              Of realities that are not her own
                                                       Because pretending is so much easier
                                                 Than facing reality
                             So she'll sleep and dream
          And secretly wish she won't wake up
So she can finally escape