Poem By Melikhaya Zagagana
It is an idea that many
man died for liking-
at once seemed profitable and sensible.
Amazing how good ideas can fall in the-
hands of untreated boars.
They fret it; they scattered it in their-
own fields: sorrow surfacing, sorrow to the
plants eaten at their rooting, rooting stems.
Sorrow to the future; sorrow to the young.
Sorrow, sorrow to the world.
Sorrow in the heavens whose word' is disobeyed:
Sorrow, sorrow, sorrow everywhere.