By Sam Ogabidu
His crime is not that he is short
There are many short men
Who are not intimidated
By their height
But not him
Who had to find the pole
To vault his ambition
Higher than men taller than him.
In grace and in place
So he could find a way
He became a brave curser
A hijacker and hate spreader
Hiding behind a loquacious tongue
Redlipped with morning lies
Betrayed only by the saliva flecks
At the corners of his mouth
He swipes and lies more
Hidden behind his framed glasses
He railed his anger to pave the path To climb higher and taller than all
So he divided his city into two
Uneven and unequal parts
And the unhappiness he spread in one corner
Rivaled the happiness he sowed in the other
And so he canceled himself out
Like the accident in our public space
That he says he is