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from the book of lost pages | da scribe

Help Me Remember Myself!

 

You used to be rich,

With a lot for your kids,

And others with their kids too…

…Used to, I say.

 

You were strong,

The brave Amalinze,

Lining your walls with medals,

Respected beyond fear…

I meant once upon a time.

 

Love dwelt with you,

You died for neighbours’ kids,

Having night and day all alike,

Though dark, love lit your streets,

No boundary separated your houses…

All that, were now in fading tales.

 

You were trusted,

Beyond your shores needed,

Noble delegate of your kindred,

Claps heralded your arrival

With standing ovations welcomed…

Now lines for fairy tales.

 

Your children were free,

Though shackled, were safer,

Time restricted them not,

Neither tribe, nor religion

Barred them from brothers’ huts;

There were never one a stranger…

Now, best of myths.

 

…you were more than words’ songs,

You were YOU…

In the Book of Lost Pages.

 

Akinsimoye, Samuel Omoniyi (Da Scribe)

@SammieScribe

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