when frogs dance

it’s the dance of the child or so they said

in the folklores…

they could look into your eyes and see beyond…

their voices were loud in Olodumare’s ears,




in things as delicately woven,

and symmetrically balanced as a man-woman affair,

they remain as uncouth.

as unknowing as the frogs on the bank.

they flow with the tide, when they hold the paddles in hands

and watch a storm blow them away

when they could easily decide their fate…

as frogs on the bank,

these look but may never really see

till it might be too late.


they have the ears of Olodumare!

such an irony.

bring back our girls



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