Oga At the Top
Oga at the top
Then you open your mouth
Like bullfrog in the muddy pool of your career
In the myopia of your great vision
You vomited manifesto which we in turn swallow
To provide jobs for those with suffocating degrees
Begging to clean, wash, mop, to pack your ****
Or even dig graves for themselves, to keep alive.
You were the one who use to sit
At the cross-road joint where you drown yourself
In country palaver with dregs of palm wine.
Or have you forgotten in God’s house
You often lead the prayers against unemployment,
Corruption, insecurity and government indifference.
Now you sit at the top
Nurtured by wayward currencies
That bastardized the poor country people.
And all you care and attend to is to build
Castles of straw in the blazing heat of starvation
And pile wealth for your waster, imbecile generation.
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