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City of Banjul
Wednesday, December 1, 2021

Your Last Gambian Unicorn

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To many, I am an illusion;

To some, an allusion.

You see, words are my toys,

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And writing my pastime.

When I reach out,

I come swinging,

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Like a wrecking ball,

Not to damage

But to make whole

Through entropy.

I am hard to follow,

Difficult to understand,

Complex to size,

Impossible to comprehend:

Your last Gambian unicorn—

Straight like an arrow,

Fast like lightning,

Cool like sea breeze,

Strong like a nail,

Peaceful like a dove,

But I can sting like a bee.

My mental ability is out of this world.

My wisdom is of the celestial bodies.

You want me when you don’t have me,

When you have me you despise me.

I ‘m like a tsetse fly on a scrotum,

You approach me with caution;

Like a mad woman dangling a baby,

You negotiate with me.

I am that enigma—

The quintessential sane insane.

I blow both cold and hot,

I can cry and smile at the same time,

I can launder and iron at the same time,

I can drum and scratch my butt at the same time.

I am the truth you seek, the falsehood you live.

I am the reality in your mirage,

The strength in your weakness,

The security in your vulnerability,

And the calm in your crises:

Your last Gambian unicorn.

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