I Do Not Have A Home

You see blood dripping from trees
Blood painting the walls
Blood flooding the street 
Blood of the innocent
Paying for their harmlessness 
That is my home

The tall house 
With broken walls 
Punches of stray bullets
Smashing the roof and glasses 
If you listen, you will hear
The birds chanting the songs of conquest
If you look, you will see 
The warms dancing vigorously on the victims
It is now a abattoir of destinies 
I do not have a home

Listen and listen
You will hear dirges from the lips 
Of dying mother 
And you hear Lamentations 
From the broken lips of weary daughters
Sons fleeing from the fathers
I do not have a home

My street is now a cemetery
Where mass graves are made
Mass burial becomes a celemonial ritual 
The grand protect of my home
Picks his tooth as we hide in bushes and forest
Drawnig in waters and drying in desserts
I do not have a home

Scripted By; JK Anyanwu
Calabar, Nigeria

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