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.