Èkó

It’s scenery captivates one in an unusual way

The sculptures and art works on its walls 

Making way for an artistic dream

It’s noise leading one into a drift from reality

The traffic, making you wail like a child

It’s imperfections making light of its perfections 

Èkó, beauty and beast combined

A place of solitude but there is never a quiet place in Èkó

It’s arms wide open to children just like a mother who calls every child hers

A mother who now caters for the bad and good, the bourgeois and poor.

A mother that weeps but hardly heard by her children who seem to go with the frenzy of things around them

Èkó house to all shows, open to all kinds of entertainment 

Èkó every dream of a proposed bread winner 

I must make it in Èkó they say

The rot and stench not killing their dreams 

Rather giving them a high they can never come down from

O Èkó what can you do to get back to where you should be 

Èkó wilting away while the gardeners turn a blind eye 

Deceived by the butterflies and flies  swarming around it 

Thinking it might blossom again

O Èkó, I weep for you! 

O Èkó goodbye, Èkó

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Ammy

Testing the waters....

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