The Errand Boy
a poem by oliver Samuel Chukwuebuka
I'd love to wake up in an early morn
Out just to witness the dew.
Even in the sun, I'll prefer plucking a corn.
Errandery, oh! It drives all joy away.
Even in its minutae, I'll rather die to face the scorn.
Now that the razzmatazz of nature feels like vindaloo.
Tossed around like a lost nylon, it gives no time to play.
And day to day this will pry.
No time to fish, no time to swim oh! It drives all joy away.
Oh! Mother give me a break.
Errandery has gotten me dry.
Am dripping sick, I lied
When she's out, I sneak out to lake.
Happiness is restored atleast in mild.