Music made me
A bird saved me
A smile undid me
A woman slew me
A friend betrayed me
And I dug myself out of the Grave.
A wound bled me
A sword healed me
A dream baffled me
A heart became me… became I…
A Call reached me
Here, there and everywhere –
Now, tell me
If you understand humanity yet?
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
The pen is mightier
Than the sword
If only writers knew
The meaning of this word
Going forward, going backward
Those who seek vengeance
Through the use of the pen
Are writing their own sentence
Regret won’t heal the pain
Regret won’t heal the pain
My friend
So tread lightly in the rain
And softly sing
And softly sing
For when the verse is over
You’ll be the one to compose again
A new chorus to start over
And when you live again
Your life will be a book of stories
And everything you wrote
Will line your path with pain
Or shame or gladness or glory.
Some kill themselves by the sword
But most commit suicide by their own word.
Some live by the sword,
SOme die by the word
And vice versa.
– Che Chidi Chukwumerije.
Che Chidi Chukwumerije 