Culture My Friend, My Foe

Friend or foe
Friend or foe

The foundation stone of a building;

Bedrock of all reasoning;

The center that holds;

Holding new wine with wine skins that are old.
It is culture;

That very beautiful vulture.

I wish you’d spread your wings and fly

Without perching, for you make brave men cry.
You are at times a god;

Other times are you a deviil with its odd.

A light for all to see;

A walk on the sea.
You have painted and painted;

Like a bad artist painting the Monalisa.

As a first class rubbish is it rated;

This Monalisa has lost its Visa.
O Culture, my Culture!

You have become foes with nature.

Tears are becoming rare comodities;

You have marked money absent from the list of vanities.
Yet nature is your groom;

Now castles are built in rooms.

The brideprice is learning culture’s secrets;

The aesthetic beauty of trimmed fields that culture secretes.
Culture My Friend, My Foe!

I can be dressed in my fancy clothes and shoes;

I can dream of engaging in a battle of balls of snow.

I still have to cower under your created boos.

-Agbator.I.Anthony {€mperical Ink}

©31st August, 2016

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