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Poetry: Horses's Tail


                               
With eyes set on the distance of the race,
He breezed through articulated semesters 
Of the way towards the honor’s mark

Ambition sweet-earned as meal full-done alone,
Cooking alike for drooling mouths
Of hungry old and the young 
Aligned with imperative lifelong learning
Determined to burn the track through as you,
But cramped at the sinew of their sprightly-feet
By some crushing constraints of the time,

Dreams sudden went up in flames
Before their very eyes,

Their hands set on plate-edges
At mid-meal deathly undone, alas

Unequal, indeed, are the horses' tails
Up for picks in the great bowl of destiny

The fault, I believe, is not in their stars;
Neither the virtues, solely, innate to you.

The word then is favor.

    ... for Wale Olubode.

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