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We are the children of hope & other poems | Christy Chris


We are the children of hope

Smeared with the oil of dismay

And our neck, laden with the jewellery of death


We are children of hope

Speaking from the place of pain

And an address of anguish


We are children of hope

Chewing anxiously on the cane of change

Wondering on how much has changed.


Our throat tickles with the acrid thin juice of lies

Served with a cold slice of deceit

On the ancient table of delay.



We sit in the cold forgotten fire pace

With confused faces

Wondering how our trust became our loss


We have been struck down but not destroyed

We have been muffled but not extinguished

We have been smitten but not vanquished

We rise

From the ashes of humiliation

With hands lifted in victory

And we choose to rebuild

For we are the children of hope


Perforated womb

Aborted dream

Miscarried vision

Yet, we conceive again


This foetus, we will guard

For it must not be drowned in musky waters

Until we bear the little burden on our arms.


Leaky hopes

Exaggerated expectations

Drowning heart

Yet we conceive again



This foetus we will guard

It must not drown in musky waters

For our arms, the little burden must bear.


And today, as I hear your shrill cry,

I laugh with glee.


You are the proof of my night

The result of my fight

The medal of my victory

And a witness that fruits can still grow from a perforated womb.


Our teeth have forgotten the path of laughter

For her ways are become foreign

The teeth we bare

Are from eating the hard nuts of tears



Our souls feast sumptuously

On wounds

And our pots are full of the maggots

Of yesterday’s promises

Set on the cold fire of truth



The heartbeats of our land fluctuates with fear

For our sons have gone into our mothers

And our land brims with solid seeds of tears

Planted on the fertile land of disappointment



Our butchers feed from the vulture’s beak

Our stomachs have learnt the act of speech

We trudge with confused faces

With echoes

Whose lines, we have long memorized.



You gave me a kiss of disaster

Rocking me in the arms of deception

With the crafty nuts of your smiles

Falling down the tree of your face




You fed me with the sweet grapes of nothingness

Holding me in the coffin of your arms

Enclosing me in the web of your lies

Knitted with strong cords that was stronger than a spider’s






You were the enemy with the rose

You were the friend with the 12 shekels

Concealing the foul smell of your betrayal.




Judas you will remain

And bound to the ropes

But the cross you strive I bear,

Will my resurrection become.


Tears took a stroll on her face

She was a woman acquainted with grief

Her pain wrote its demands on her face

Worries tilled the soil of her face

And laughter was a weed that was disallowed.


Her leaves were written on by many

With ink too inky to be neat

Summarized in a little book


As the tears ran, eager to embraced their friends

Her life leaped

Eager to rehearse before her eyes


She knew every line from the play

She was the actor and the director

And the audience


This road was familiar

These pictures were old

The tears were regular


Looking into the sorrow drenched eyes,

I saw an unfamiliar road

I don’t think she was familiar with it

But i saw her take the bend


And the tears that fell from her eyes this time,


Photo by Abdulaziz Mohammed on Unsplash

About The Author: Christy Chris is a young Nigerian poet and most of her works are deep expressions of the prevalent situation in her country and of life and the world at large. Her works depict an unflinching and undaunting hope for change and growth.
She hopes to touch and influence lives through her writings.
Christ Chris was the winner of the Okigbo poetry competition (2014) and the winner of ‘Scribble the future’ (2016). She was also shortlisted as one of the 100 best young African poets in 2018.
Her works are documented in her blog:


Published inPoetry&Musings

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