Posted by: Ron DuBour | April 9, 2017

tomorrow is not today~by Ayoola Goodness Olanrewaju


 

 

tomorrow is not today

i shall still daily stand on this road waving dedications
to the morning sun. waiting for tomorrow. tomorrow is
not today. burn me. take my sweat and give me the sour
sweet. tomorrow shouldn’t be hot like this.

soon i will learn how to forget the sun. sweat. sour
and sweet. i am standing on the spot
where a boy whose name i have learnt to dream
of died. he wanted to touch the sky. i am holding my
head. it is the only way i kill memories
of his moments and mine. my

head will burst tonight. of people poetry
and poverty. The governor is demolishing our humble
houses.he is asking for prayers to make roads where
we once called our homes. we are homeless.
but he is going home. we will

roam. he is going home of bountiful. we sit
on the road side. naked. he will dream his dreams
on a bed of roses. we will look at the
sky again to remind us that there is no fault in
our stars. the cold will not be nice. she will kiss
our bones into broken testaments of how we have given
the twinkles in our thumbs to a bastard!

a bad star. our boss cannot recite the
national anthem. she has long given up on motherland
to know the songs composed by hyprocrytes. maybe she
knows of south africa. there is no house here to house
our big brothers. we are still homeless. we
roam. we stretch to answer the names of our homes
in another country. the governor

is coming tomorrow. build-dozers. thud! our house.
has fallen.

i shall still daily stand on this road waving dedications
to the morning sun. waiting for tomorrow. tomorrow is
not today. burn me. take my sweat and give me the sour
sweet. tomorrow shouldn’t be hot like this.

tomorrow is not today.

Ayoola Goodness ©2017

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Responses

  1. Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.


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