He Had a Dream

The last time I met him,
he had a dream.
He said this society had ills;
that they keep asking us to wait,
but for how long?
He said this land had a heart, and it
was bleeding.
And all that he saw was wasting men pleading.
He wanted to know if I saw what he saw
in the eyes of the lowly.
He said the call was for him to stand and
speak for their tears.

Yes, I saw that dream.

I saw a man whose blood spilled
even though the cut was not on him.
I saw a man who’d been down
long enough to tell a smile
… from a frown

The next time I saw him,
he wouldn’t even look in my way.
I could only whisper to a doubtful
stranger that I knew this man.
That I knew him, not long ago…
but I couldn’t tell him how much I
thought the man had changed.
I couldn’t tell him how wealthy he had
suddenly become.
And I couldn’t tell him this man once had
a dream.

He had dream of a house where he could
speak for the voiceless.
But now he speaks for new interests he has met.
And together they read bills,
they pass bills,
and go home with sacks full of colored bills.


J.Ifeme Elo