PRISON LETTER

On the 21st of March, 2021,

The world poetry day,

The cloud was sad and dismayed,

He sat solitarily at heaven's gate,

Because he was beaten by a sad lad's story.

Thunder strikes, the lightning lashed the cloud,

Uncontrollable tears rolled monolithically from the cloud's eyes.

I, Promise, a prisoner in the Western part of Africa,

Wrote this in a tearful manner and despair.

I knew not what made me a prisoner, but I knew I wore prisoners' tog

And acted like a prisoner.

I was caged in a dark prison that seemed like a madhouse,

I couldn't see my leg nor my hands,

The darkness was thick as Egypt's plague,

I was alone in my room, which smelled of nothing but petrichor.

I ate like the profligate son in the prison,

My morning food is dog's meat,

And evening is pig's meal.

Life is inspiring in prison,

Even though my body is full of inscriptions

Which I knew meant something,

Whenever I felt like writing, I inscribed on my body,

Only a day in one moon, daylight visits me,

The day I was assigned to work hard like a bee.

Thunderstorm strikes the cloud hard,

Bringing more saltless tears from his eyes,

I could see my sides whenever the thunder strikes,

I requested a pamphlet to write my epistle to you.

REASON WHY I DWELL IN PRISON....

I was writing my romantic poem to my beautiful queen,

I heard noise coming from outside,

I thought a politician was around,

Sharing money for the tortoises in my area,

I went out to poke my nose; I saw a man with dreadful dread on his head,

Running like a lion's prey,

I wanted to question him, but he threw a lady's bag at me,

I was staring at it like faeces on the floor.

Gbooo! I heard from behind,

I fell unconscious on the muddy floor,

I opened my eyes in the hospital,

Handcuffed like a mad man,

Men in black stood by me,

And my Momma sat on a white chair crying,

Like a deserted widow.

I could hear it when she said, "I trust HIM, MY SON CAN'T STEAL SOMEONE ELSE PROPERTY."

The men pushed her away like a street beggar,

I was sad because I didn't know why I was cuffed,

I couldn't help my Momma to stand up,

She was crying uncontrollably on the floor,

Every count of her tears pinched my heart.

She was led out of the ward, and I was injected,

I slept off like a baby that found peace on his Momma's bosom,

I woke to a thick darkness where I knew not what has happened to me,

Yet I'm alive,

My head hurts like a sore borne,

My hand folded a stick which I don't know what it is.

PLEASE TELL MY MOMMA.....

I know this may be the last letter to you,

Because I knew not my crime,

Please tell her that I love her,

Tell her I have failed to make her proud, but she has tried on me,

Tell her I will choose her over world riches.

Ololufe mi, you too should stay healthy,

Never get disheartened over my circumstance,

If God may, I will come out safe,

And I will make everyone proud,

I love you more,

Take care of everyone,

Let them know that our hearts beat together.

My heart does run out of me every night to meet yours at the mango tree,

To commune and make love,

Every day, I know you are missing me,

So I do.

Promise you won't leave me when I won the battle,

Promise you won't stab me with noxious words,

Promise to make my momma feel happy in my absence,

Promise me that your love will remain unshaken.

My love, I promise you that my heart will meet yours at 

our place.

Here are my words from the dark prison in the Western part of Africa.

I love you.