This poem was written in a dingy room at a sober hour, reflecting on his mother and her tragic death. The author – without a doubt was the most influential character of the twentieth century; more prominent than Lenin, Stain, or Mao Tse Tung, his fearful legacy disrupted so many lives, stirred so much hatred. For a man with a heart of stone (as many ascribe him), he had a spot for his mother whom he revered – indeed, a mother’s love is weightier the fiercest hurricane. Think of it while we all wish our mothers the best!
Ugo Nkwoala is an entrepreneur by day and a self-taught writer by night with a passion for poetry, short stories, and photography. He holds an MBA from FUTO and divides his time between Lagos and Owerri (in Nigeria).
How many handsome opportunitieshave passed ne’er to returnwhile I was having a sip –a social glass with a friend? How many foolish bargainshave been struck ne’er to revertunder the influence of a sparkling cup,which made me bounce with…