urban chaos

This is when long before

I lived in a house with an always open door

The birds chirped, and the sound of glow,

What an atmosphere for others to show,

Under my sky everything was happy,

Spring season changed the earth’s nappy,

But then one fine day, there came to stay,

The wind of sorrow in the month of May,

What it was I didn’t know,

There was a hum from far below.

Stepping on the door step I closed the door,

Mom told me there was a mob, increasing more.

I asked her what’s the matter, why do they fight,

She dint have an answer cause she looked all tight,

Far away at a distance they were in my sight,

It was getting dark the beginning of night,

I could hear the screams in the little light,

But I was too little to get it right.

So, stepping on the door step I closed the door,

Mom told me there was a mob, increasing more.

About it, in the night, I thought and thought,

My milk I saw my mother brought,

She explained to me whatever it was,

How lives are lost, without a cause,

The mirror saw my face and gave me back,

A fearful look I couldn’t track,

As I looked on the milk trembled with fright,

I had grown a bit and had got it right.

But still, stepping on the door step I closed the door,

Mom told me there was a mob, increasing more.

The violence and crime said that boy,

Infuriated the dragon in his mind,

How people suffer and roasted to death,

As if they were chickens meant to be slaughtered,

Hand raised for killing, for praying and hopes,

The boy said ‘nothing I was doin’? The answer nope,

The bodies rose but fell again,

Where they would go I am sure, under sweet heaven,

BUT STILL WE CLOSE THE DOOR, YET ONCE MORE,

FOR FEAR OF THE MOB TO COME ASHORE,

I then grew up and learnt a lot,

Forget about these incidents, surely not,

I told my mom that I would be the mettle,

Of any an organ, for this to settle,

Quietly I went without her know,

In no time I was at the door,

I turned around and closed the door,

This time to go, until I reached the core.

Mom cried out when she heard the sound,

Of the door on the house, did hardly pound,

I was half way thru when she shouted out,

come back here your not goin any where scout,

She reminded me of the cries of the innocent,

I said the call of the people I have heard and will not return till, offenders are punished and turned,

God knows what happened to her, her sound went low and turned her head,

The door of mine all went sour,

For it to close had come the hour

There was dew in her eyes, that a little I could see, she saw the same in my eyes too, maybe.

God had given my message to her indeed,

Which I didn’t now give, to need.

I wished I could have told more,

I didn’t wish to see that open door close.