Nigeria,
Nigeria, the Soul of my Pride (Part One)
Nigeria, my country, where mournful of pledges aren’t reneged?
Indomitable she would have maintained, if crowns aren’t clowns
Gyrating on the mishaps, wearing wan gumption—unwelcome!
Ears do attend; but eyes haven’t yet seen what watery mouths do speak (of).
Roasting are to rich physiques, as paupers’ plights mount on their rotten.
Innuendoes of yesteryear ‘nattered’, nativities’ woes unforgettable.
Atrophying (now) are the little legacies her founding fathers had raised.
Nigeria my country, where true sons and daughters’ tongues sip in her bounties; sobbing,
Some are endlessly praying and raising their voice to hearings and their words to readings.
....
6/4/2014
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