INFANTANT!
(My neology for children used for terrorist attacks. A combination of infant and combatant)
Curiosity plastered over the contractions that exposed their life’s clock.
They camped around him like he was rabbi, and they were talmid.
“who do you work for?”’—they asked.
What they really meant to say was – at what age did depravity teach you his ways?
“They promised me a mansion, whose bricks are gold
Girls with the finest tones and whirls
A signet of honour at the king’s court.”
“Where can we find them?”—they pressed.
“Can’t you see them?
Right in my eye’s pupil
it’s a marriage of souls, they took mine and gave me theirs.”
“we don’t understand what you are saying?”
What they really meant to say was – you are immune to rehabilitation
This is all I know.
This is what I am for.
I have bought their lessons
as my own.
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Poem (c) Emmanuel Eruemulor
Image: Remixed Michael Odida Unsplash