Broken Enough

I hold no grudges
my hands are empty,
this smile is all i have left
but my tears is so hard to forget.

While you are busy writing down my faults,
my mind is celebrating my innocence,
beautiful tomorrow, lovely children, scent of abundance and unending laughters.
What more can i say,
your stunt won't change a thing,
I have been broken enough.

Copyright Abel Udoekene
(cuttings from where I come from, a poet diary)

My Life Is a Blessing

Some Lies they say may turn to be true, some whisper somehow could change a life, some people are light, yet don't shine, my life is a blessing, so let me be. Some people are praying for others to shine, some stories though real are out of this world, some people love just for nothing, my life is a blessing, so let me be. Sometimes, life maybe just so hard, sometimes things are not as expected, sometimes even in tears, we smile, my life is a blessing, so let me be. Copyright Abel Udoekene (cuttings from "everything will be fine...a poet diary, March 2013)

We Are good people

There is a difference between us and them, there is a story that link us to beauty, there is a reason we keep on shinning, we are who we are, we are good people. There is a life behind our good nature, there is a future that shines so bright, there is a person in every success story, we are who we are, we are good people. There is a hope so high above, there is a God that strengthen our weakness, there is a help we must not overlook, we are who we are, we are good people. copyright Abel Udoekene (cuttings from "EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE...a poet Diary, March 2013)

day after day

If I fail to live to your taste I'm just trying to follow my faith, to you, I am nothing but a child, so little, so blind. If I fail to follow your steps to me,there is nothing more to fake, I'm just trying to be me, I guess I have the right to be free. If you think I will be better being you you might as well think this too to me, there is no better word to say, than being me day after day.

what do they tell you about me?

I tried to explain my style, I sit up chatting and "gesting" I Walk up a few miles to radio my presence, everything is just fine my mind keep telling me, do you understand my slangs? what do they tell you about me? But my eyes is fix on my pen waiting for your answers, what is wrong with our people?

My Dear Nigeria

I wanted to write you a poem about our dreams, so that you could sing along as you grow older by the day. I wanted to post your greatness across our boundaries, so that people could appreciate your beauty and realise our values. I wanted to critise everything I could, thinking I Was not part of the blame, but as I start writing this letter, a voice from no where ask me this question " If no be Naija, where?

Explanations

If I could develop my own style and give it a name,
Or draw my lines just to suit my styles,
maybe you could liken me to be self centered,
just to fulfil your self ego.

If Love was only a word,
and we could say it without minding
the meaning, maybe the consequency will only be defined by us,
since we could twist the meaning to suit our own style.

If I was your only brother or your true friend,
and you love me just as you proclaim,
maybe by now, my voice will be on BBC, CNN or VOA.
Just to show the world that you have a brother like me.