Ode To Engr Attah Poem by Alexander Onoja

Conscious and fearful, he enters the class,
Voices grow still with loudless tide.
Even his words of love seemed cruel and crass,
Frowns when we scoffers sneer and chide.
All hail the strict and harsh tutor,
That nicks glad moments of silence as they pass.
Though potentials brimmed, yet void of pride,
Got quirky and awkward sense of humour.
............ Ne'er smiled............

It took our convocation to know,
That we are led to those who'll help us grow.
A virtuous man content when pupils learn,
Though his stares brute and stern.
His rough voice pricks our scars,
His dark-side sky tricks out stars.
We hated him with wanton frowns,
Until the day we wore our graduation gowns.
............ Then he smiled............