The Prodigal Black
Why don’t you look back?
To see where you’ve always belonged to as a black?
Why don’t you listen to your thoughts?
And remember you what your mother taught?
You crave for the white man’s country,
their women, clothes, and lifestyle.
You head out showing off to others in style,
Yet you end up doing the white man’s laundry.
You went in search of greener pastures,
forgetting that not all that glitters are gold.
Now you cry unto your pastor,
weeping, wailing, and wishing that you’ve been told.
Many with this have gone into oblivion,
cutting short their lives and visions.
They refused to warn to be a consideration,
leading them into an endless regression.
You live your life, shun everyone out,
got so high, lived extravagantly throughout.
You thought you were loved,
loved by people who care less when there’s nothing more.
The path of the young is always slippery,
and to the old wisdom they say is shitty.
But to them who listen.
Will live a life full of meaning.
Kolawole Mayowa(Zr Writes)