When finally I stand among the sea of men who have lived
Those before me and those who would come after me
I will not marvel at their numbers
Nor stare in wonder
At the races, and sizes.
I will only seek out those who I have missed
My angel Aisosa - 'Will you be grown, or forever remain a baby?
I never got to see what you would look like grown
That hurts me most you know'.
Iye No'khua - Mother of my Mother;
All you whose blood I share
And you too whose hearts cared for me
Jude, dear friend, you never got to be a banker
It was hell you know, life
But I have no doubt you would have excelled.
Then I will carry out a search of
The first black man, so he would tell me why
He fathered slaves and third world nations
I would ask the first of my line
'Why are you black? Why are you not white? '
I would have been an American instead of a Nigerian
I would ask Jesus
'Why did you die? '
Seeing as his father with infinite mercy could have forgiven us all without sacrifice
I would ask God, oh so many questions I have to ask Him,
But I will settle for asking him why
'Why did you bother creating man? '
Osazee Dankaro
27/09/2016
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem