Micro PoetryPoetry

War of the Villagers

I leap like a frog,
And fix my eyes on my village
Like the mournful eyes of the lake.

I pounce into the air like a panther
Ready to lunch an attack on it’s prey,
Fixing unblinkingly like the moon.

The loud wailing of emty stomached children
With pointed stomachs and long necks,
Like the shots of yams coiled on stalks.

Women’s clothes falling off their shoulders,
And fleshy well stuck to each sides,
With a water reservoir in between.

The screams and shouts of hoes and cutlasses,
Crying for their heads beaten on dead lands,
Their screams; loud, tearing my eardrums.

Tax collectors forced out our coins,
Leaving us naked to the whole world,
Like a house burnt down to its foundation.

Tell the king!
Violence knocks on his door!!
Hungry villagers are ready for war!!!

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