Wild Bush Poem by MAHAMMA ADRIANNE

Wild Bush
“Thou art growing a wild bush?
Thou mayest not contain wild life.
The bush hath sentiments.
Phobia of a people,
Who are great?
The bush is depressed,
Demented and grayed.
Poetry is an insignia of intellect.
The folks have loads
Of such stuffs,
Inscribed different from
That of the white man.
And that’s the peak
Of rhapsody.
Thou art not abreast
Of the trends in the world.
Capital and small letters
Do not exist.
Culture frowns at
Those of us
Who prostrate to greet,
But, deride as you passed them.
Respect and Gossip
Are incongruent.
Can we choose either of them?
Talk and talk,
At us, you will never get.
The bush is an odd fish.
The bush may end
A frustrated man.
The bush is already
An octagon”
By Auwal Abdullahi