I’ve been worn to a frazzle,
in the race of springing the rows to tomorrow
I’ve been abraded,
by feet of traitorous cheetahs, who course on into tomorrow.
Turning me, but a suckling on the breast of depression!
While dancing to the beats for survival:
to and fro,
to and fro
in the sea of waters above my head.
Behind the cameras, eyes watched,
my vacuous self as I’m gone.
A new dawn blew another whistle;
To the race, O Israel!
The race of life!
To the race with boots, all have returned!
For even the frail memories with me were drown!
At the other side, man awaits your arrival;
Which you neither know how it.
Written By: Nseobong Edem