Mirror, mirror, please tell me
Which is the damnedest land of all
Whose land is as rich as its people are poor
Whose leaders, amongst thieves, stand bold, tall
And In toast to Death’s health, blood they daily pour
Mirror, mirror, please tell me
Where would I see a fool at 53
Who was once a slave of strange men
Whose limbs are now bound to an imaginary tree
And veiled demons make his envied garden a killing den
Mirror, mirror, please tell me
Why brothers should be at war
While strangers loot their inheritance
Why the one locks against the other his door
And they slaughter Peace before he gets a chance
Mirror, mirror, please tell me
Where folly kisses the lips of old men
Who watch the she-goat deliver in chains
While she is yet tethered outside her barren pen
And they look away smiling as she bleats in birth pains
Mirror, mirror, please tell me
Which people would break the mirror
When they could wipe the stains away?
Where is a slap-debt paid with servings of horror
And Tomorrow’s meat is thrown to dogs down Today?
Mirror, mirror, please tell me…
Written by: Kukogho Iruesiri Samson
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