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Life's Treacherous Play
Shall i a traitor brand thee hence?
Murderer of my childhood innocence
And recount they deeds upon me
Little or much there be
Shall i tell of my princely birth feast?
Those sweet promises to say the least,
Yet those errors, so much pain
And many earthly efforts lost in vain
Shall i tell of both joy and sorrow?
Thy season after season upon me bestow
Or saying none, my eyes closed to thy meandering flow
Until saying no more, one day, to my Maker timely go
Perhaps, i shall yet say this of thy treacherous play
For when death come, thou certainly will run away!
poem
by
Okonkwo Osamedua. Allen
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