To My Unborn Child Poem by Etebom Ekpo

This is a letter for the
Seed of my unborn child
Let it be cultivated in the mind,
Read by the eye but
Conceived by the mouth

Cry bird was not to a fault,
The boat had been paddled by
Pride and few understanding and
They gathered by competition

Let it be told to my children,
A man of pride is without
Fine wisdom like a
Builder of brick without the
Knowledge of sand

I saw it come like arrow,
The speed was great without
A warning wind
I ran to beat up the fire, but
Two hands was too few to keep a peace

The fire had born to pieces the
Pillars and walls of our kingdom
Yet the debris so difficult to gathers
I took my life, a price for peace, but
A whip had taken me to bed for now