ANBAKAYEAR

ANBAKAYEAR
Tall palm trees shooting up to reach the skies so tall that its fruit wasted away falling down from its heavenly perch in time to start a new, I walk up the roads to reach my goal a sack full of provisions I was told, to harvest from a rich soil that would not yield so what was I to do, several mouth and empty stomach could not understand my trial
A dig here and a dig there year after year, month after month, day after day I scrape the surface a dig here and a dig there never planting always reaping. How long can you go on supporting my destructive ways to rip where I sowed not but always wanting for the burdens of providing rested upon my shoulder?
I know of a parent who thought it funny to say aloud anbakayer you must go, this minute you must leave, bring to me a sack full no complaints from you walk up my boy mama little man, anbakayer I would go to rip and plunder for what I did not sow I rip
Too young to know better too old not to, I walk the roads of Mahout begging for a ride begging for a meal but always returning with a sack full of this or that to satisfied the hunger in many people that would not move here or there
Like the palm tree I became free and in my desire ask to forgive my captors from the burdens impose on me of ripping what I did not sow in a rich soil that would not yield 
 
Copyright ©2006 Kenvil Atkins

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