TheLefthandedwriter’s 10 Day Poetry Walk – Pain
It was a very Sunny Monday Afternoon on Campus, we were uniformed in our attires of white and black, looking ever so beautiful, classy and audacious, devoid of worries and barred from sadness. We matched together in our numbers, yet in a single horizontal line, we owned the road like it were built for us, our shoes, a reflection of the daunting sun. A brief stop at NFA, we sat in our legion, chattering and laughing, mocking and accessing the fashion style of passersby such that everyone passing must have envied us and then it HAPPENED.
PUL 401 is out, Evidence too, ah! All of them are out o! The last one of us sitting on the gutter cried out. Immediately, the sun suddenly burned harder, our heart raced fast and our fingers raced even faster. Everyone rushed to the E-portal, this time, we had departed. Later that night, I got a call that would land me in the hospital, but now I was still tapping vigorously on my phone screen, trying to pick the incoming call.
“FEMI DON DIE O” were the last words I heard before I slipped. Femi was one of us, part of the sharp-looking law-boys squad, Femi was one of the happiest souls ever, he was handsome indeed! Femi had wanted to study dramatic arts but his parents insisted on law or nothing else. Femi had 4 F’s in the 4 courses that life cursed at him the previous semester. That night, by himself and without life’s help, Femi Opened D-portal to the Afterlife.