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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Before dusk, Before dark when the rustle of the day is dawn Inbetween those tankers, you will see them In the robes of odour Decorating the hollow corners of fear Their faces, carries no pity They are lord of the streets... Nightfall on this lands, When it rains, when thunderstorms come aboard Whence shall they lay their heads Those whose abode are the filthy bridges of Isale-eko The half-hagard areas of Cele Down to the mischievous dangers of the island Where shall their heads find rest, for the waters would wash them ashore When it is night, Here in Lagos, especially mile-2 The siren nolonger scare them Here where she slept a virgin and woke with triplets Here where an innocent boy, Suddenly woke to become a Don Coleon And many futures were burnt before they were born They are angels during the day, at night they are darker Thank darkness It can only be in lagos, espcially at night Feaces, with faces of many color Some in ring form, some triangular shape In casket of green tantalising and grey Smirk faced men Short brunnete ladies, telling and urgingashore come If i should go, you might as well read of me tomorrow Do we forget the street merchant Those homeless not hopeless The servitudes, those with no home For the services of our upkeep Nightfall in the shanties of lagos, Sounds and buzzes from the factories of buzz
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