Images Painted on our Canvas
 
On this canvas/we see the pains planted in the crevasses of our mind
 
I
 
An underage boy with a gun on his shoulders
Wearing his mother’s fear/ learns to grow by painting his childhood with his brother’s blood
& like his friends/ he is another puppet of the politicians/ a dream successfully aborted
 
II
 
Because my siblings drowned the sun in mama’s bucket/days passed without the sun
& the dawns were identified with a mother’s scream
“another child dead” our neighbors say
 
III
 
That’s how we got accustomed to saying “never mind” when someone’s love one dies
We pick our lappa/sit on the mat and eat our sorrows
Till the ghost is seen in the bottom of the plate
 
IV
 
Our country is the picture of everything evil, the government, homes, schools
& dreams abandoned on the clothes lines
But life goes on in everyone’s mouth
Like the old war jingles planted in our throats

About the Author

Eduard de Bosco writes from somewhere in the world.Born Edward Boateng,he is an honoree of the Gujarat Sahitya Akademi Award in collaboration with Motivational Strips, for his literary excellence. His works have appeared in: Spillwords, Praxis Magazine,Eboquills,We Write Liberia, in anthologies and elsewhere. Eduardo finds his peace in poetry, historiosophy, advocacy, education, music, and in nature.

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