Submitted By: Bethel Nwaogwugwu

There are moments
When we lament
And moments, when we regret
Even sometimes when we regret to lament
But during the time of bashful disappointment

We relapse eternally to docile hands of fate
Even when we seem to concentrate
It becomes too late
Now we'll get solace and advice from the prelate
In his soothing manner, he'll preach destiny and fate

When we trudge back to our ghettos...or their mansions

The moment of truth will assail us
Even with the undefiled touch of the prelate on us
Our mortal enemy hunger or constipation will be gawking at us
We'll gleefully be thinking that our plights have fled us
And euphorically decreed that the devil will be
punished for the plights that came to us

But we failed to embrace these eternal truths:

That even the endless political promises
The film tricks like or magic,our economy promises
The celestial homes,and comfort the prelate promises
The most solemn marital vows and promises
Even what our innermost and personal self promises

These are all silhouttes;
Unless we banish the inhibitions of our spirit gem.

©Bethel Nnaemeka Nwaogwugwu, 2002
Facaulty of Law
University of Calabar