Licking our collective sweet alone
We are left to chew whitened bones
Struggling with their snarling dogs
They bloody our soil to our detriment
And feast on our labored harvest alone
Leaving the masses with wrinkled faces
Poverty romps around with open glee
Massaging us unto madness
Silently uncapping the knees of progress
How obfuscating! To see their dance steps
When we queue up like flies
To cast our votes, again
We hoped for reasonable fellows on the seat
But after shedding our collective sweats
They turn their backs and poke us with spears
But here we are, standing on this fertile soil
Pain consoles our heart with tears
And a million voices whisper;
Where is the breath of fresh air?
Written by: Moses Opara
Edited by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
