The loss of a child
is the death of a promise,
but also a still-life painting
of what could have been,
in surreal shades of yellow and red.
Children have the unfashionable ambition
of becoming firemen and policewomen,
maybe even the next US president.
Out of the bare minimum of props,
they construct their identity as angels of mercy.
This is why most police officers, in unguarded moments,
have the faces of sleeping children.
They are already in the valley of the dead,
playing hopscotch and hide-and-seek,
and plundering Death’s delicious kitchen.
About Ijagun Poetry Journal
Ijagun Poetry Journal is a quarterly journal that provides a platform from which we can tell our own stories in the authenticity of their multiplicity through the poetic medium. We don’t want to hear these stories from our master “griots” alone; we want to hear from those mastering their art, too. Hence, we aim at publishing new and emerging poets. We also welcome the works of established poets in order to encourage the poetic genius of those mastering poetic art. We prize original works that conform to, break or reinvent conventions. Again, we accept reviews and critical essays on poetry. We also accept powerful art works and photographs that make us appreciate the "poetry" in everything.
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and tagged Adreyo Sen
, The Lost Children
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