Mum and dad couldn’t keep a family,
so the family became a beans pod exhibiting a dispersion mechanism
and we became an abandoned marital experiment.
We nursed a bunch of brokenness by ourselves;
open wounds, broken bones,
fractured legs, malnourished tommy
and a future that went wayward.
Dad planted a new seed,
the street became mum's new home
and we became a borderline between two enemies.
We grew not knowing the real taste of love,
so yesterday I recorded my tenth broken relationship.
No love in the city,
so my sister entered her legs into mum's footsteps.
We became brokenness itself,
hunger was the artist that mould us,
we lost our tomorrow very early of yesterday,
the street was a home
and our rooms were just a prepared grave we kept running away from.
© Kolade Olawale Kabir Àdèlé