To Mr. President
To Mr. President
A privilege it still remains
Among your peers
Both better and more sophisticated
Yet we are happy not sad
The chance to father your fatherland
An to mother your motherland
You know the principles of fatherhood
And ethics of motherhood
The father delights in his children's smile
And in his daughter's leisure
And sleeps not when hunger churns
Likewise in the time of ill health’s
He can do anything to have his wards work
Instead of wasting them walking
Some refuse to return
After a fortunate run
Fearing post traumatic experiences
Father, make this house conducive for life
And they must return to their origin
To continue the lineage
Father remember that fever killed one
And flood took with him one
Yet auto crash on the death trap
And one in learning-war camp called
Mahadum died.
Father, see our chances
You can still have generations
But you must revive
The entire sphere
Our land is fertile
Our trees fruitful
Your sons strong and willing
Give them a piece of land
And see their harvests
Our leaves herbs
Why must we die of diseases?
Father you know how mother died
On her birth stool
Because of neglected task
Of gathering her medicine
May her soul rest in peace
Now we must eat like in the Passover
With our belt beyond our stomachs
Surely, these will Passover
And they will less mock
Saying, a blessed land
Without a blessed man
Copyright © Magnus Nwagu Amudi Esq | Year Posted 2008
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