Author Essa Bokarr Sey
Home I want to see you again!
I want to see you when you are not sobbing in despair.
I want to hold you tight when flames have been buried under a huge heap of ashes.
I want to behold the beauty in you when killer-blames are lame.
I do miss the essence in your standards and values.
I do not miss the effervescence within your cultural values.
I want to see home when thought can fly like white pigeons of hope.
I do not want to see home when thought is sniffing dirt like a helpless pig.
Home I love you! I do not loath you!
Home I am presenting a request from hostile nostalgia.
Home this is a request with many charts.
Here are questions trying to quench their thirst!
Home,when will thought be allowed to fly forth?
Is the port of freedom open?
Thought caught on the spot!
Pain in chains!
Waves of tears!
On this spot where rain cannot wash this stain!
Why spill the blood?
Home,on this day!
Thought cannot hang its hope on those who have put ropes around your neck!
It just cannot!
It cannot do so on this sad day, when a huge dome is placed above conscience.
No! I cannot point home with the hidden jinx of an index finger.
Yes! I can use a vissible finger of truth to warn some drunken marauders.
Home! my home!
Home! I do not miss seeing that severe pain, coming from the knives of social misfits drive you insane.
I do not!
Home! when sadness is turned upside down the mighty sparrows of freedom shall sing in the thickets!
Home,the authors of these somber days shall be shackled!
Home, the rising sun of your dreams shall once again shine on the fields of life's green pastures!
This is why mine is hostile nostalgia.
I refuse!
I shall ever refuse!
I shall die refusing!
Loath the dome!
Hope is the answer.
So many formulars on the slate of Life!
Hope does not tether,hope has no ropes!
The dream of Cambi-Bolongo!
Author:Essa Bokarr SEY.