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AFOWOFA
<p>In the beginning, it was all pure.
</p><p>No fear. No guilt. No shame.
</p><p>Everything was good.
</p><p>I wasn’t there,
</p><p>but I believe those first few days
</p><p>before the Great Sin
</p><p>were the sweetest days creation ever tasted.
</p><p>The Yoruba’s call our story afowofa
</p><p>self-inflicted wounds.
</p><p>Yes, we did this to ourselves.
</p><p>And you might say, “I wasn’t there.”
</p><p>But look deep inside…
</p><p>Would you really have chosen any different?
</p><p>They said curiosity killed the cat.
</p><p>But now that the cat is out the bag,
</p><p>tell me, who’s left to bury it?
</p><p>Who takes the blame?
</p><p>We’ve turned blame into tradition.
</p><p>“Oh, it was Eve.”
</p><p>“Oh, it was the devil.”
</p><p>But the devil wasn’t there
</p><p>when you dropped that bottle
</p><p>two steps away from the trash bin.
</p><p>You.
</p><p>I mean we.
</p><p>We destroyed paradise with our own hands.
</p><p>We burned the garden for comfort,
</p><p>and called the ashes home.
</p><p>No remorse.
</p><p>No fear.
</p><p>Our hearts, darker.
</p><p>Our minds, duller.
</p><p>Our seas, full of plastic.
</p><p>The air full of lies.
</p><p>And yet…
</p><p>you sit there,
</p><p>scrolling, laughing,
</p><p>mocking creation with your trash.
</p><p>WAKE UP!
</p><p>You are not only killing this planet,
</p><p>you are killing me!
</p><p>Every day, the line between wrong and right
</p><p>fades a little more.
</p><p>Abnormal is the new normal.
</p><p>Good is mocked.
</p><p>Evil is trending.
</p><p>Tell me, when?
</p><p>When did the truth become offensive?
</p><p>When did we trade conviction for applause?
</p><p>The rainbow,
</p><p>once a promise of peace,
</p><p>now flies as a flag of rebellion.
</p><p>The hijackers came,
</p><p>took a holy sign,
</p><p>and turned it into noise.
</p><p>TRASH!
</p><p>The audacity to rape.
</p><p>The boldness to kill.
</p><p>Even your own children
</p><p>aren’t safe from your hands.
</p><p>Brothers defile sisters,
</p><p>Fathers break daughters,
</p><p>and we still ask, “what’s wrong with the world?”
</p><p>We are.
</p><p>Why do we take pride in the rot?
</p><p>Why do we glorify the grave?
</p><p>Why is peace not a basic right?
</p><p>Wars everywhere.
</p><p>Nations against nations.
</p><p>We’ve built our own cages,
</p><p>brick by brick,
</p><p>blood by blood,
</p><p>sin by sin.
</p><p>We’ve turned beauty into a battlefield,
</p><p>and paradise into prison.
</p><p>This world, this lovely, wounded world,
</p><p>is crying.
</p><p>And somehow…
</p><p>you still don’t hear her.
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