The plane crash that took place at Omagwa,outskirts of Port Harcourt, Nigeria, on 10th December, 2005, killing all onboard.
Nothing betrayed the hint
That you would not deliver in peace.
The sky’s face wasn’t rumpled
In a thousand wrinkled pockmarks;
Neither were the heads of mortals below
Dank with tears from on high.
When labour came suddenly,
Knocking ferociously on your door,
You jetted out majestically,
Zooming thru space
In a pace
That was hardly lady-like
Not to talk of one
With a protuberance of the midriff,
Daring the Zuma,
Like the puma,
In some strange forest,
To an altitude contest,
Until you suddenly touched down by the nose,
Genuflecting at the foot of Omagwa
Which you chose as your labour room.
You spilled your ghastly content
Amidst wails of agony
And tongues of phonetic babelia
Crushed togeyther in a wedlock
Averse to any social,
Chronological or gender hiatus.
Tenth December, Two Thousand and Five.
May your kind
Never again be born
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