Who ever knew that the Lion was not-too-old to run?
Or who knows why when the cub entered the bout
He was called a sheep—a black sheep?
But either ways, the cat family must lay claim to the throne
Now, even the wolf wants to lead the flock
Because this is the jungle; where anything goes
I can't remember being taught the drama technique
That sidelines the main characters in a play
Having them sit as the audience
Watching as jesters play
Power games with their fate.
In this play where every actor is a clown.
It's funny how only the climax determines the drama's genre
And how I can already predict
That this farce will end in a devastating tragedy
In this play where no one follows the script
Every character struggling to steal the spotlight
It's probably no coincidence that
Cheetah and Cheater are homonyms
Because either can win this race in the jungle
Every virulent animal has stepped up to the line
They are on their marks
The stadium goes quiet
As we await the bang like our lives depend on it.
Obaba Museum
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Posted in Poems
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