THE TWISTS AND TURNS IN OUR CITY
In our city on a normal day,
A child is beaten to pulp for the slightest errs,
On the afternoon he's ladened with loads of which he must make sales
Trekking distance on flat belly and dirty shorts,
Sandals are loosed, he walks barefooted but who is there to care?
And for a girl they jerk off her before she is old enough to give her consent.
I just failed a course for the umpteenth time,
Rubies, diamonds, silver or gold I have not,
gummy brains and ingenuity, to him, is slime,
My incentive for his course to sort,
Sticks and stones, frustrations and ohs.
With hopes higher than the heavens,
We cast our vote in a box and counted,
But our leaders had a ditch to hide countless dollars,
Our leaders turned the lake to their personal well,
They stole, loot and swallowed the lot of the National Cake.
The bells jingling as he gave his ethereal teachings,
A bell of extortion and greed,
protecting them under the deceit of celestial wings,
The brethren, but no choice to heed,
Lies and camo, his stack of ammo
Out in the blistering cold of the night,
In see-through barely papering nudity,
A swam of teenagers gently waned the moon's light,
Buying and selling their glimmer of dignity,
Ticks and tocks, hidden in the blocks.
Our city is a tale of news and whispers,
Children are maltreated with no pizza,
In school we bribe our teachers,
Pastor's deceitful field we plow with blessings,
Our leaders are neither heroes nor Saviors,
Yet our youth waste away in the grips of the harlots.
©Ganiyu Taofeek and
Ikpeme kanong
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