By Clemence Taremwa
It’s a new era,
No more type writers;
They are in the gutters.
No more desktops;
In the queue are laptops.
We have I pads;
We have note pads.
But after the I -pads what next?
We will use the wind to send a text!
Just like blowing a kiss!
We will have E everything
E love making, by proxy
Kids come out of a printer
WATS app is already the thing
That needs no explanation
The heart has been manufactured
Let’s wait for the soul!!
Oh innovation, what stone haven’t u unturned!
I look on the other side, my Samsung galaxy stops.
I rush to Metroplex,
I hear 3D movies!
The bullet is on my face, I scream!
Every one laughs at me
I bow down in shame.
I go at Worker’s House
The doors open themselves for me.
Oh how I wish they were the doors to eternity!
The door to marriage,
The doors to motherhood,
The does to the billionaire club,
The doors to everlasting life!!!
It’s called innovation
Oh now I know
It’s written all over the wall!!!
This poem won third prize at the BN Poetry Award 2013.
Reproduced courtesy of the organisers of the BNP Award.