Wednesday 27 March 2013

Once eighteen, soon eighty-eight...

A little story I shall tell
Of a life I once lived
In a far of place on earth
I existed
Born with a silver spoon,
I cat -walked through life.
Beauty was my answer,
My answer to life’s questions
I was but a youth
Truly vanity was theme
My fine chignon was my pride,
My rear-end a sight to see
In front, God truly molded me
fit and lady-like, I was.
What this generation calls sexy.
I never forgot tiro,
I never forgot to change my lip colour
I never forgot powder,
Jewelry was the high-end of life
Fashion was my best companion
One shoe I had in a thousand colors.
Truly blessed I thought I was.
Boys were dogs
Friends were a piece of cake
Life was smooth
Then the struggles came
Somehow still I saw myself through them
Cat-walking out of terrible circumstances
The results being bad
My reactions being indifferent
Maturity stayed away from me
Or was it I that stayed away from it?
Child-like were my ways
Elegant and youthful, the world called it
Time then flew
It flew too fast
Then I found myself
An old woman
Bad eye sight, bad breath
No tiro, no lipstick
No powder, a wrinkled face
Sad as it might seem, inevitable it was
My breast is longer than my feet
My backyard doesn’t exist
My best clothes are iro and buba
Nothing but death makes sense to me
I suffer pain
Not the pain of old age,
The regrets of a life ill used
The story of life that was but a cat-walk.
A lesson learnt
A lesson I share
A wise use of youth
the end result, an enjoyment of old age
Life was more than party
Life was more than drinks
Life was more beauty
Because these in the eight-eights
would be but a memory of the eighteens.




By Ope Adedeji ( Nigeria )

Picture source : voodoochilli.net