My high eye balls have blurrily seen art –
Works of a lad in the soul of the night;
The sight of one made my heart tear apart,
This heartless scene I will forever write...
A wheel he was forced against his own will –
To push until the sun went to the west.
Motionless like a statue; he stood still,
Till his body posture became unrest.
Will the will of the wheel take a chill pill,
Or the baby will push until Mama calls?
The same pain Mama faced when she fell ill;
After pushing for hours – this I recall.
The painted pain exists not just on walls;
But at times; to me, to you, and to all.
©Akinrinade Funminiyi Isaac
(Esv_Keks)
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