Brooding
Oh pigeon, brood not and know happiness
Constrain not thine self to sad thoughts
Dwell on what is thine that others have not
And let this a smile draw on thine face
You need not a house
The sky is thine home
You want neither cars nor planes to travel
Your wings are there to serve you
You want no clothing to deter the cold
Your feathers stand in this stead
You need not labour
Mother Nature knows not improvidence
Not bound are you by lines called boundaries
You belong to no country
All the world is your inheritance
And you bequeath it to your progenies
None judges you by the colour of thine skin
Or puts you down for being poor
None looks upon thee with ill will
Or take pleasure in thine fall.
It is I, not thee, who should sit brooding
I who sits in this quadrangle
Lazily watching the sunset
As my soul sojourns places
My body may never reach
I whose mind and body is chained by labels
It is I who should sit brooding, not thee.
I envy thee and want what is yours
For what is yours is what I never can have.
© Ubaji Isiaka Abubakar Eazy 2019
Natur's Pictur N'quill 