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Saturday, 08 December 2012 18:51

The Green Party

In circles,

Hands holding jaws

We sat, waiting for master's script.

Now, the party is losing colour

A shade of green, strange shade that is.

Green gone like an old groin pain.

When the door swung open,

Master's script said it all;

Lines of hope. Hyphens of greatness

Each punctuation seemed like our

Forlorn Sun, anew. This script has

Come to water our despair.

But master's words as bright,

Hung with the skies. We waited

And waited. Our hands back to jaws.
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Emmanuel Uweru Okoh

Emmanuel Uweru Okoh, a poet and writer was born in Nigeria. His works have been published in NEXT, Saraba magazine and Sentinel Nigeria. A few others are ITCH Magazine of South Africa and Mad Hatters’ Review of Iceland.

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