Mbachao

time laps at our breath like a starving canine
our life oozing through pores on deflating tubes
soon only ashen bones will be
and we won’t even have the strength to live
when it’s time to leave, we will look back longingly
our scrawny fingers reaching for an era gone by
as our hearts pine for once-loved that are no more

the songs we composed will cease to have meaning
they will be elegies, then eulogies for those we lost
and since there will be naught to do,
we will wash our sullen faces one last time

the writing on the wall says to live now, here
our contest is for want for a larger playground
we have grand schemes to set the world ablaze
eyes affixed to that and there, we are blind to this one here

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