IN MY FATHER'S HOUSE

In my father's house;
We had many, but few to tell,
A balcony, the ground for many peers
A portrait portrays our numeric worth,
And a dangling alarming chained clock
The one that calls mother to call us to answer the school call.

In my father's house;
No tenant, not those mouse paid a dine
Yet they dominated the walls, so cracked,
Till they married Mama's favourite robe,
And Papa issued a ticket to better heaven
Then we closed their chapter in our story.

In my father's house;
Abode of rainbow, coast of many colours,
Reggae and blues, song of many beats
Wheat and tears grows like no difference,
Still an unnoticed snitched like Termite
Yet a parasite slowly bit the giving finger.

In my father's house;
There a library of an unscripted story
Of a friendly enemy, a familiar stranger,
There a stage of an infinite drama
That ended in dispersal of the characters,
When mama was gone to find the pen, which papa lost to the bosom a cold death.

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©Samuel O. Ogunyinka, (Psalmist).