The tragedy of the cock

Mon, 01/08/2018 - 21:36 -- PENAWD

Back in the dusky dark days in the hut
Days of white and black on human screen
Our voice travailed like it's night rut
As it echoed from miles away to within
Sighting signals to farmers' harvest
Souls of wholely resources like the palm tree
For our cock-a-doodle-doo was the best
As snoring giant danced to the tune of such lyrics Things never fell apart
There was no diversity in our unity
No educated fowl, nor uneducated cock in the desert
Living was fluid and gleeful in totality
Human seemed to be loving in the planet
For we woke them to go for there morning duty.

.
But this trending tale has changed
We are left in a fate of uncertained pain.

.
Our voice still echo from east to west
We still tap human when eyes are lifeless
But our existence means nothing on earth
Rolex and host of others has shot our existence
We are shut down when we sing in the dawn
For beside their mouka is the pendulum
So, they stop or change till appearance of the sun
I (agric) work, but never eat the fruit of my labour
I (layer) have rut, deliver, but in my fruits lie there profit
Uncracked soul murdered alive for feeding
And when December sets in
I (broiler) cry, cry, and cry like a momma loosing her only offspring
My soul shall lie lifelessly in their pot of soup
As the kids show fist in the feast of my root
No offspring to pour me ashes, I shall join the hood No wonder they've been investing like school.

.
This trending tale has changed
I'm left in a fate of uncertained pain.

.
OYEDOKUN IBUKUN PENAWD

This poem is about: 
Our world

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