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Poetry: Not to be Wasted By: Sanni Mubarak


It is only now that I realized that something strange is happening in the cells of my body
A silent hijacking is already underway.
I could see that the days are really stretching wildly and widely. What has that done to me? Suddenly at the brim of adulthood! 
So unexpected! Too busy living to observe, too busy pursuing what the world has to give.  

I had watched the monstrous hands of death plucked the soul of my beloved 
Some of them I admitted gone too early... Untimely, unplanned. 
Recently! Abruptly... They are gone never to return 
Some of them really lived, some never really did. Ridiculous?  

I had seen a dying mother, watched her fragile body 
Eventually, she was seasoned and fit for her passage 
I saw with her moment of pure defeat. Losing her steadiness, comfort, and joy. Do you know the loss? 
No, you don't. She is going to miss the rest of my life. 
I have dead aunties, uncles, cousins, and relatives too 
I have acquaintance and assumed enemies. I have them all in the ancestral league. 

While I still traverse, wander. Here, I still live 
Apparently unaware that I could die at any moment. 
What if it happens?  You know, it feels perverse and cruel how the world will just carry on. 
The North will never cease to be, the east will live on. 
And business continues, even now I am under the earth. 

I know I need to start living now, a worthy life, an honorable one. Now and not later. 
I need to bring more joy and meaning to this rugged existence. I need to live, to feel whole. 

Life is a dauntingly fat book 
And since my arrival, I have oohed and aahed through it. 
Opening the pages desperately, with a tinge of ease and at times confusion. 
I have a deep arsenal of Ambition 
But lately, I learned cannot be used against the inevitable. 
So… Life is short and not to be wasted. 


SAM
©PEN.

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