Sitting on the beautiful west side of Africa
With all the tremendous tulips of wanders
Black bride of Africa and sexy curve to the world
Admired from relevant sector
of human material industries
Hoping grand father to be
But her children are driven by greed
and selfishness
They want her alive but milking her to death
Triplet at birth
Struggle to own her milk bank
Metamorphose into tweleve baskets
and six political war Lords
Strive made them thirty seven suckers
At the end of the month
they gether in her sitting room
grapple what they can for food
Even when they acknowledge
they did not contribute

Six decade they managed to lie to themselves
Manipulating one regime to another
With profound scheme in lying drums
The celebration of mediocrity and nepotism
has eaten deep into their vein

The strength of hatred is short up
in their bones and soul
Camping on a paradox bomb
which is not far from the next regime

They have started jucketing
from one point to another
Repugnancy escalate to the horizon
of a failed state

The clock ticks and about to
explode before their very visual
Yet refusing to do the needful
Those who speak for the invisable being
have been sold into the money
romance industry and now
hear and speak for a streng being
only known to them

Callousness have taking over the city’s
and the once who sworn to protect
life and property now in a shell of
alleviating banditry and criminality

Oh! What a callous nation
Seeing the truth before thee
But have chosen to look away
Because of the few black gold left
The time is calling, the time calls
Leaders of tomorrow are you seeing
Or you have drank your brain away
With shakey shakey dance steps
Enjoying the moment of silent pains
You may have end the Sars

But the range of criminality
and lawlessness fill the land
With supreme audacity reining supreme.


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