“The Street Speaks Volumes” — A Poem by Chima Daniel

In the street where we grew
we started early with clay and dirt,
we made dust houses with zest
and built mini worlds with little best.

Innocence was seen in every cranny,
creativity moved hearts to make fountains
and abilities were mined from eager toddlers
ready to get their hands dirty.

Over there, engineers sprang,
also firefighters and rescue gangs,
Also music maestros sang;
and the street became a hub for tomorrow.

First experience was born,
new players were sworn;
children led like elders
until they were real men.

In hide and seek, first loves were found.
During new moonlight, virgins’ crowns were lost.
In muddy waters, first dives were made.
During summer, engine towns were built.

The street got a loud voice
blazing in fertile minds.
Both the fool and wise
were shaped by the street
to balance the sphere of choice.

Why not share?

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