Weep Like A Child

I weep like a child

For a sliver of the past

For a cake of smile

That crumbles like wafer mass

I weep for frosted memory

That leaves a white moustache

When I taste its cream

And grass like dressed salad

I dream of soccer balls

Of buns that are auburn and warm

And bread on palm-oiled beans

Washed down with a tall mug of coffee

I weep for a street

Of laughter-stoned kids

And the joy like a stream

Where our childish screams

Put under the surface grim

Knowing of inevitable parting

Akpan