For those who never came home,
Our yellow field would grow green peas
For your sake.
The sky that captured grizzling souls
Where hot blood preserve battle bullets,
Our flowery nights returned
Winter cold. Your fading smiles glimmer
Twas no agony of defeat
No! Twas no cry of victory;
Hearts glued to the ticking sound
Ours were the soothing words-
Dying scent from old clothes to veil our loss.
Of father now unhappily the son,
Our wives must flirtlessly find new husbands, and
Mothers grappling at space
Her malady is not beyond remedy
We know the grandmothers would sadly rejoice
As your shrinking smile slink away.
This tough moment would help, our tears
Glide fearfully towards disbelief
Oh! The horror of war wrapped around our faith
Your blood-shot eyes herald a new dawn
But only of memories and dead emotions
For those who never came home.
Abimbola Opaleke writes under the pen name Bola Opaleke. Born in Nigeria in 1973, he attended Obafemi Awolowo University in Western Nigeria where he graduated with honours. He moved to Canada and became a permanent resident in 2011.