DAY 5
THE PLACE I CALL HOME
At the dawn, our modesty was raped,
by the people meant to keep its purity,
our savings were unsealed then sealed.
They own the key, so they decide its destiny,
the common men can only wail,
for this is my country where right is only a noun.
A lot of us are willing to trek the sahara
because it is the only route a large percentage
of us can afford with the globally devalued naira.
We all jump at the mention of visa, even the cripple.
Our national symbols are now grotesque represention
of the helplessness of the people.
Our republic is being looked down upon in everyplace,
the inhabitants too. For we exist in an era
that is only characterized by backwardness
Every four years, our ears are filled with riddles
that cannot be deciphered
until we all become weak and feeble.
They'd say the vulture is handsome
that we are the ones with specks in our eyes.
We get to praise an empty vessel lest they hold us in ransom.
We blame them not,
It was with our thumbs that we put them into power
and we've accepted that as our lot.
But blame us not too,
It's hard to know the fallen one among angels.
They are usually the same people anew.
There's meant to be a calm after every storm
But, it has been the opposite for a long time.
'Getting worse' is the norm.
So It is safe to say that we are lost on the sea,
and the numerous captains of our one vessel
are oblivious of the way back to shore.
©Yusuf Muyibat Avosuahi
©Akinwole John Akintayo.
#100DaysPoetryCollaboChallenge.