SHADOW DREAMS

On half a dollar, or one a day

Slum darlings of the wretched earth

Feign at best a fare to eek,

Be though blessed with artisan flair,

Existential folly yet confounds their lot.

For to seek meaning in such lowliness

Where contrarian biddings beyond their lays

Conspire to thwart the spirit’s ascent,

Is to court fatal instincts, or dare to hope.

So to the alien deity cast their gaze

His graven cameo, cold and mute….

Aloof and numb to sorrow’s beck

Dim is faith but not their mirth.

Yet at passion’s chidings, spirits alight

By innate yearnings to rise and thrive

Alas per fate or fable ruse, fervor wanes

Like frail trade-winds battering short

The ballot swings – their dreams differed.

Still on the dime, the world-beat throbs

Capricious heart strings strumming greed

And the lords of the manor, they rave with glee

Deaf to the wailings beyond their ports

While tortured presses bleed the grapes

                           

Hope Kalé Ewusi ©