Thanks to the daring darkness that sowed sheds of light for the needy-dawn to harvest in bumpers
I am a black boy revered in a colony- crowned
I am a black boy sauntering amidst cuffed hands and legs.
But still of the folks trusted for sumptuous soil in matters of dinning,
Feasts to feasts,
And mountain wise.
If my teeth are grated like a grille with foams as sediments of anger
breathed out on a fast pace,
My gain is pain.
But I need not that,
Only a cheerful yell at your stupidity
I am your servant, yet your boss
Fortuneswell fruits are knotted at our deciduous tree.
Why not thank me, skinny whites?
Why not adorn me, beaklike noses?
Am I not the fruitful darkness
On which you live to meet taskful ends?
Rever me for I am nothing less than a honourable.
“rains from the ample ink”
YAHYA TEMITOPE LAMBE