Come My Brother Poem by Tony Adah

My brother you prowl and toil
Without a gap of breath
You think that the world is work
You have been a farm hand at a time
A hewer of wood and a college boy
The street has been your home
Where you brandish that paper
The college gave you
But no one cares to look at.
A thief they say
Does not remain in the field
In the glare of the moon
Yours is a tale of woes
Still a living neck upon a shoulder
Must wear a golden necklace
Come let us have respite
From the yams roasted
From plantains grilled in the cinder
Of garnished times
Come let us take a transfusion
From the resplendent springs
Relish palm wine from
The oozing palms
And leave red wine and beer and
Spirits and and all grilled
That goes with them
Come my brother
Our village is beckoning at us
Come before age comes
And we need a third leg to walk.