The Man Without a Name

Memories ago, sticks were dry,
Too lazy, they didn’t want to try,
Pale looking thin necks,
No plans for the next,
Green pigments could only but cry.

Leaves came to its fantasy dome,
To beautify, give shelter home.
It was fun at first,
Till brown quenched the thirst,
Coloured green, make them weak to roam.

But trees didn’t let them fall; kept the pain,
Were scared to chant ‘Wetin we gain’,
Beautiful turned black,
Once rich who now lack;
An unknown man didn’t speak of rain.

It took a while for leaves to know,
That time to overcome is now.
They begun to fall,
Till they formed a wall,
Letting the new off springs to grow.

Now, trees wear mighty robes of fame,
Just imagine they stayed the same.
That man, still no face,
No name, and no place,
Lives with pride, accepting no blame.

Tomide Abdul