To my Unborn Child

To my Unborn child
To my Unborn child

This poem was found in the skulls of sages who are dead.

They painted lines of reminiscence with their sweat that are red.
They passed through excruciating pains
For you my unborn child to be great and have gain.

To you my unborn child;
I’ll make you smile with similes.
I’ll tear my garment in pieces so you can live in peace,
I’ll scribble and scrabble on the dabbled marble.
I’ll dive and drive so you can ride when others hide.
I’ll teach you how to shoot the gun of poetry when I’m gone.

This poem was also found in the brain of my father’s father,
Who had a father that once had a father.
He refused to be slave during the time of slavery.
He drew a land mark which my father followed,
He painted a generational future with his blood;
He died for us at the battle field in Biafra war.

To you my unborn child;
I’ll strive to make sure you never drink from river marah.
I’ll make sure your blood won’t be tasted by mosquitoes,
I’ll fight to make you live more than my father’s father lived.
I’ll blow the trumpet and your enemies will bow to you.

I’ll make you a poetic philosopher
Cos I’m a philosophical poet,
I’ll prepare the way for you as a forerunner.
I’ll make your path straight and make you the head and not the tail.


Poet: Sunsampaul Egwu Philosopher

Source: Citadeloflife

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