June Third, Twenty Twelve Poem by habib akewusola

JUNE THIRD, TWENTY TWELVE
The unfriendly plane came, baked
With an arrogant fire flame courtesy
Dana air space,
As my land begins to shake
Steady crates of eggs collapse
And break
Her waste ran fast as the sun ray,
Tears became the spice of this day
Contributors convert millions to be
Greater than sands grains.
See how time is best friend to death
Before I could take a deep breath,
My area begins to smell
Exactly like a public toilet
Pleading for urgent help.
Do I quarrel with Dana that this
Is unfair, or
I tell my God why death turned into
A trade fare on a sabbath day.
The same day, my mother laid and
Hashed me into this image,
Under my canopy listen to loud
Music to celebrate
Inside my wardrobe lots of new
Clothes to appreciate
In my phone hundreds of
Messages to congratulate.
Dana suddenly arrived over the
Roof of my gate
Destroyed my anniversary plus
Guest I tried to entertain.
She perished all the cherished faiths
Sitting on her plane
When life wears no duplicate,
See wasted heads fill Lagos state,
Tragedy I pray to forever cast away.
Will this souls forgive my village
Or torment the so called aviation
Lineage,
No burial would befit my face
She's total burnt like this roasted
Maize.
Hallelujah to the Most High
I beg for grace on getting
To Your Majestic Place,
Tell the Angels to welcome Me with
Praise,
Cover this grave as time on earth
Is shorter than the rain.


HABIB AKEWUSOLA