Write Me A Poem Poem by yakubu abukari n

This is a poem to be performed, not to be read. Don't get caught reading, perform it in your head!
Write me a poem.

A long lovely poem. One that will hit your audience like a thunderbolt and make them replay their lives
from finish to start- backward, from grey hair to umbilical cord.
Make it pretty, make it hot, make it really really cute like a baby in a cot, make it endowed with the fury
of beast, with the gentile nature of brute who has been forced into a suit for a meeting with BILL GATES. Yet I
wonder if he hates to see people EXCEL or have ACCESS to softly spoken WORD for it renders them
POWERful and on POINT with money oiled wheels with which they too can anoint. But we both know how
the rich loathe to be in the midst of people who have joined them in Forbes rich list.
Talk of the stars, talk of the moon, talk of sun high up at noon. Talk of the months, start from June. Talk
of Antartica and why it is a continent yet has never entered into any international competition. Talk
of Mars and the Rover expedition, talk of Libya and its role in America's rendition. Talk of the internet
and how it has changed our lives and how crazily swift rumors it drives. Talk of privacy policy. Talk of its
many pages and how we all eagerly search for one key- the ENTER key, when at once we see READ OUR
PRIVACY POLICY!
Let us hear about Africa's freedom fighters. Like the British monarch and the French imperialists who
fought against the freedom we fought for. Yes, they are the true freedom fighters of the past and there
are many more in today's cast. If you know about these, let it show- about Nkrumah and the CIA, about
Mandela day, about Nyerere and his colleague from Zimbabwe, Mugabe; about Martin Luther King and
how he was shot, about Malcolm X and how his resolve could not be bought, about JFK and Lee Oswald,
about the Middle East and how peace is elusive. And if you choose to be blind so shall you be.
Talk of RFI and Al Arabiyya, talk about BBC and ABC news. Tell us their views on world issues and
whether they are skewed and from reality far removed.
Talk of the seasons, give us your reasons why most of Africa sees no snow nor experiences spring, has many
rivers yet little to drink, has large land masses for farming yet little to feed its famished, fleet of fuming
factions;
If you know about love, the one as pure as a white dove, not the one that shatters others into two
halves, talk about it. The one that leaves us saying -she is sent from above. The one that gives her
permanent residence in the living room of your heart, not the visitors' room. The one that makes you
take up two jobs because you want to make her you bridegroom. Not the other that is registered
instead in a night club, and consummated in a cab, right outside the pub.

Write me a poem. Long enough to convey its message, suited for my age, deliciously didactic and subtly
sarcastic. Whatever you write about let it have a theme. Whatever you write about give it a rhyme scheme.
Whatever you write about give it a message. Whatever you write about let it not exceed a page!
(Sorry, i think i just did)