First Gong Vol. 8: Thrust FIRST GONG 8 THRUST | Page 114

SAFETY NET - Erhio Obodo
I once had butter but no bread
A soft pillow but no bed
I wrote poetry in my head
because I had no pen
That was then
Now I'm being offered dry bread
An empty bed
and paper when there's nothing in my head
Now is not then
There's no how
Or way to return to when
So somehow
I have to figure out how
To butter my bread
Make my bed
and sort out my head
So I leave my nest
and head West
A beehive of captivity
Poverty and insincerity
I look East
all I see is trouble mixed with yeast
Confused though slightly amused
I look at the Northern sun
Glory long gone
All that's left is a smelly sore
from a rotten core
The South looked lost in a greed war
A complete eye sore
I could look no more
Yet as I closed my eyes
I felt raindrops from the sky
I also felt the sun
114