LONDON STREET

By Ridwan Bello, Kaduna, Nigeria

Dark, old, and short

So slim, lean, with thought

Of all the way fate set

Forth, with all the pain that

Gushed out, above the heat

Doom night art, on to rain

While heart drives.

Little child, he said

When heaven stood

Watching the kelp

Of that old man beat

Up on the street, where

Were you?

Tell them little child, that Mandela

Is dead.

O when those news

Men shall come to ask

You about… tell them little child

That Mandela is dead.

Was it for his colour

And his love to these

Rose, he was beating up

On London street?

Say no less little child

That Mandela is dead.

©Ridwan Bello