Sorrow Of The Shattered Pot Poem by Wale Morakinyo

Now that you have done it!
And your tool retracts, drenched in the juice
Back to its place like a sword its sheath
That cowardly act wrought with vague bravado

5. Pull up the trousers, now with ease
Moments after violence pulled them down
To let its tool fester like fire in a summer's wild

That menacing weapon!
Brutally thrust her weak clean slate
10. Her slate, never ever been written on
The beautiful rose from a well-watered garden
Violently crushed; the Red juice splashed!

Shamed!
Her drums will beat for none to dance
15. To what value to market a shattered pot?

And I, the Sheriff knocks now
But in vain