Diaspora…by Osalam Wosu (2edged Pen)

No ill will you speak
 of the place you call home

Though in beauty

It reflects not Athens or Rome

A certain air of warmth

To those who own it, it gives 

A wealth of hospitality 

That cannot be stolen by thieves 


“Home sweet home” I seldom say

But with every second spent away 

I’d want to drop to my knees and pray

For when I’d return on a glorious day

To fields of green in perfect array

The feeling that comes from watching children play 

And the rhythmic movement when girls hips sway

These scenes that brings smiles and make the mind stray


I long for the day when at last I’d be free

To return to the place where I’d love to be

When the cold hands of death start caressing me 

And all around I see the fruits of my family tree

What a great ending to a lifelong exile

To finally with my fatherland, reconcile

What better way to end life than with a smile?

After having known naught but sadness for awhile 

©2017 2edged Pen. All rights reserved 

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