I COULDN’T WRITE YOU A SONG

The days of toil

on this soil

Gradually passing as clouds

and age is only become,

Something of great interest to men-

something to be celebrated.

I wish I could write or even sing you a song

to complete this celebration

So I write you a lullaby

in your youthful days

As my alibi

for I couldn’t write you a song;

May your troubles and problems, fall to sleep

as this lullaby is heard

And your love grow,

like the old Adansonia digitata in the Savannah

May your joyous songs be full

and in days where there aren’t any left,

In your heart,

May your mind be full of songs

and your heart turgid of prayer

I would write you a

if I could,

But I couldn’t

I would paint you with words,

if I have the brush of numerous vocabularies;

But I couldn’t know how best to

but, a lullaby I leave you with,

To alibi you in your sleepless times.

---Fampah Coyish---