Freedom Park by Idris Sado

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freesom nantygreens

These walls
once
were grim and gloomy.
Here many a fate
met their doom.

 

I still see them
in their chains,
their sweaty bodies
tilling the grounds.

 

They wet the soil
with tears
from their eyes,
I still can hear
their cries
in these winds

 

Freedom so far,
in bitterness they accept
their misfortune

 

Day and night
in these walls
their world is conformed,
no escape from its savagery,
and the jailer's whip

 

Days of biting hunger
alas how useless it is to hope
crammed into breathlessness
in this pigeon hole
called prison cells

 

Life has no meaning
death they impatiently await
Bound never to feel again
the sweet carnality
of the opposite sex

 

In these chains
they have been cursed
to spend their lives
miserable
till death comes calling.

Creative works (literature, art and culture) emerging from Nigeria.