Excerpt for Account From Plaintive Throat by , available in its entirety at Smashwords



Toba James


Account From A Plaintive Throat is a short series of poems that follows the event of a man, most likely to be guessed to be in his mid 40s. It expresses the challenge of financial difficulty and other challenges that comes with it such as shame, hatred and lack of respect.

This piece of poetry illustrates the common term known as midlife crisis. Another significant content of this work is the expression of emotions and to an extent their effects. Account From A Plaintive Throat is as straightforward as it gets. I hope you like it deeply and broadcast it to friends all around.

Thank you

Toba James.

The End Begins

Mr Perfect steers awake

Ushered to reality from his unrealistic dreams

He knows an end approaches

And soon, he'd join their league

The league of those that says:

"I remember the good old days."

He takes a look at evidence

Of his luxurious life, asking himself

As he stares at substantial mahogany desks

"How much longer have I?"

As though aware, his phone chips

Granting answer to his question

His eyes are widened with surprise

At the swift blade of reality

Sparse bank account balance taunt him

As though to say:

"It's only the start of the end."


What went wrong? remains unknown

What is to be done? -no clues there

His legs wobble as he takes the last

The very last of his presence out of here

Here a place once called home

Not even Hus life will any longer

Afford this luxury

Yes- reality could be murderous

The story to tell the world,

Will have to be far fetched

As it's better to lie in honour

Than lie in shame.


She spits at his feet

Filth that he is, she muses

To think that she was in love with him!

Her remark, sour, bitter

Right before she takes the final walk

Far away from his wretched life

She assures she's making the right decision

No reasonable lady, no, none

Would hitch up with such a sorry case

With that, she leaves, arrogantly

Certain there would be no bounce back

For a guy this old

For a guy in this predicament


He coils,

Hands wrapped around bent legs

He watches, as days go by,

Everything he once called his, gone

Gone down the drain

Even if he takes to lie to everyone,

The truth is definite to speak itself

He painfully acknowledges his emptiness

That no longer lingers within

But stays evident in his surrounding

Not only is he lost...but likewise



Everything hovers over him now

Days turn to weeks

Weeks to months

Day to night

He watches the sunset- a new hobby

An activity that reminds him of himself

But on this day, something new flashes his mind

The sun sets only to rise again

Perhaps, admits this dark era

Lies a tiny, litty, bit of hope.


He stands before these debtors

Debtors of favours he'd done them

Surely, one must feel pressed

Enough to give him a flesh start

"Nothing too grand, we mustn't be too hopeful"

He gayly instructs himself

His proposition his well laid

Now he awaits their response

He is hopeful indeed

After all his good deeds,

Theses lots owe him this much

To his disappointment,

They seem to think different

With a stern face, they say

"Out the door you go."


"Diligent in my work that I am!"

He bitterly, nearly screams the words

"Why me?" The question is thrown to empty room

To say he saw this coming

Would be a lie,

One the devil will take no glory of

In an instant, he is a child

Longing for the hug of his mother

Wishing to hear sweet wise words

But he knows, none would he be get

No love for the poor

No mercy for the wretched

His cross is his

And so he must carry


Mr Once Perfect stares at his phone

From the little mirror he'd been looking at

This thing won't stop ringing, he muses

His countenance irritable

He continues to scrutinize

Those emaciated cheeks of his

For the millionth time, the phone cries

With annoyance, he separates battery from gadget

Later on, he will realize

It would have done him much good

To have picked that call sooner.


Dawn purposefully creeps in today

As his phone purposefully,

Steers him awake

He is unimpressed to have a message

No good news there so far

Its from a friend it seems

The content comes with something new

It says things about

Missed calls, a job- money

In a flash, he is up on his feet

His bright self back again

He hurries out his cramped building

Ready to snatch whatever comes his way.


He stands before a board

All looking grim, unimpressed

His friend, the boss, asks:

"What's your story?"

Is this a trick? He thinks

He wishes to speak

But his emotions make him reticent

He fights back tears, finally,

Recounting the account of his life

He concludes and await a proper interview

To his surprise,

He receives smiling faces and an envelop

"Welcome to a new life." Comes the invitation

"We hope you take i."

And he sure did.


Mr Perfect steers awake

From his luxurious dream

He wakes with a smile

A triumphant one

If he says he saw this coming,

It would be a lie,

One the devil will take no glory of

What is to be done today?- no clues there

How did I get here? Remains unknown

His phone chips,

Hijacking him from his thought

His eyes are widened with surprise

At the tender kindness of reality

Substantial bank account balance beams

From the screen of his device

As though to say cockily,

"This is the start of a beginning."

The End.....

If you liked this then wait till you read ONCE UPON A FICKLE MIND by Tolu V also available on Smashwords. Love you guys.

Download this book for your ebook reader.
(Pages 1-17 show above.)