I need everything
And I need dearth
I squeeze the leaven
To open the girth
My hour is eleven
Narrow, not straight
Rough sun having
Your fun on my mirth
When you burn my raven
Rekindle my hearth
I need Heaven
But I also need Earth.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
When will he stop
Persecuting that guitar
His voice is hoarse
It hurts her
It digs a hole in her armour
Roughly
And scoops her out
Hoarsely
I wish I could remember him
In my dream tonight
When silence is wall
Enclosing me and she is gone
His voice is gruff
A street musician
Enjoying his moment on stage
Roughly.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 