On this confluence boulevard
Where the sun is at head
I watch the heat massacre their skin
They roam like flock without shepherd
Left without nest
Celebrated but not valued
With shining booths they all came
Like bee in hive are the feathers
On their assorted hats
Decked with myriads of dream
But what went amiss?
On this Naija
They have been schooled to believe
Cautiously they tilled her soil
Why has she refused to vomit?
Should they revolt?
But they can’t die in silent?